Decoding You
by xJacksonx
Summary: True love is the most capturing. Brought together in the pitch as rivals and partners in class, Harry and Cedric begin drowning in secret, growing passions. Takes place in third book. Updates as soon as possible--
1. Contact with Charisma

Hello All. I'm going to keep this short and simple. Thanks for picking my fan fiction to try reading. Hope you enjoy. Review if you love or if you hate. Feedback is more than welcome. Like any book, my chapters vary in length…but there will never be a truly short one.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters used in the fan fiction or the plot for that matter, or anything that can seem Harry Potter related. And I'm not making money off of this, so don't sue.

Summary: True love is the most capturing. Brought together in the pitch and in class, Harry and Cederic drown in secret, growing, passions.

Rating: M for a reason, dear readers. I can't stop younger people from reading this, but please, be responsible when choosing your ratings. Decoding You contains Adult Sexual Content, Sexual Insinuations, and Language but trust me, the focus is love.

CHAPTER 1: Contact with Charisma

Many people have made decisions that come back to bite them. Harry Potter sat in the Ancient Runes classroom thinking just that; a decision came back to nip him. Hermione, a precocious but kind witch sat next to him, beaming from ear to ear. One way or another, she had roped him into taking this class with him. Whether it had been her big, watery eyes begging him, or Ron finally pleading him to just give in so Hermione would stop nagging (she ignored him for days for that comment), Harry finally agreed.

Now he sat in the eerily silent classroom, resisting the urge to slam his head against the table he was sharing with Hermione. The two Griffindors had arrived earlier than most of the other students and even the teacher, per Hermione's request. While they sat there, Harry wondered why on earth a third year like Hermione (brainiac or not) would shove this into their already full academic schedule. Who actually would take an hour out of their life each school day to learn what could be considered an entirely new language?

Harry suppressed a small groan as Hermione pushed his enormous Rune textbook towards him.

"Oh, Harry! Isn't this so exciting?" she asked him.

For a moment, the raven haired boy almost took her question for sarcasm until he saw the gleam in her eyes. A sigh escaped him.

The bell rang startlingly loud in the silent room, causing Harry to jump in his seat. His elbow rammed into his text, effectively toppling it to the dusty floor. It landed there with a resounding, echoing thump. Eyes raised and heads turned as the embarrassed teen bent and picked up his book. Hermione produced what Harry could only define as, 'a squeak of indignation'.

Face flushed, Harry kept his gaze downward for the first part of the lesson, mechanically writing down notes from the Professor's lecture. After retrieving his book, he had noticed the mixture of students in the classroom. Not only were they of all ages, but all four houses were present as well.

"Mr. Potter, from where did Achuaric Runes originate?" the Professor piped, turning his beady blue eyes in Harry's direction.

"Uhh.." mumbled Harry, desperately scanning his notes. He had just copied them mechanically, not actually absorbing the information.

"Too slow!" the teacher barked, throwing a chubby arm in the air. "Mr. Diggory, would you please be kind enough to answer the question properly?"

Students snickered. Harry narrowed his green eyes at his new Professor. Next to him, Hermione seemed disappointed that the teacher hadn't called on her.

"Ecuador, in South America," came the answer.

Harry looked over to see the student who answered. The young man in question turned and glanced over his shoulder at Harry. He had smooth golden-brown hair that flipped out at different angles, and sparkling hazel eyes. His pale, coral lips were crooked into a haughty grin. Harry frowned at him and returned to taking notes. As the lesson came to a close however, Harry mentally noted to pay attention in that class in the future. He was really going to need Hermione's help in that respect.

The bell rang one excruciating hour later and as he packed up his bag, a shadow fell over him. His head tilted upwards to meet the gaze of a 6 foot tall Cedric Diggory, who was wearing that same, crooked and cocky grin.

"Potter, if you ever need a tutor, feel free to come to me," he said, adjusting his backpack.

"No thanks," Harry quipped. "I don't need one,"

He pulled Hermione at a remarkable speed out of the room. She finally pinched his arm to get him to let go of her.

"Harry!" she breathed, "What's gotten into you?"

The boy addressed sputtered for a second.

"Hermione, he--!"

"He was being very considerate!"

"Was not. Just being a jerk,"

"Cedric Diggory is not a jerk, Harry,"

The way Hermione had purred out his name, Harry understood he would have no impact on her. She, like many of the other girls, were dreamy over the fifth year Huffelpuff Diggory. Harry just decided to shrug it off. He could always talk about it to Ron later, up in their dormitory.

The rest of the day was uneventful. At dinner, Harry brooded about having Potions the next morning, along with his newest class, Ancient bloody Runes. He spooned into his pudding rather forcibly, spilling some outside of its dish. Hermione and a few other girls eyed his table manners disapprovingly. Ron merely took the opportunity to steal a scone off of Hermione's plate while she wasn't looking. She seemed confused to find it gone when she turned back.

In the dorms that night, Harry slid into his modest blue PJ's and waited for Ron to get dressed as well. Then, he launched into telling Ron about his first day in Ancient Runes. For the most part, the redhead found it funny. Though he was decidedly peeved at the tutoring offer. He--like Harry--felt it was adding insult to injury. Purposefully at that.

"Cedric Diggory is one cocky bloke alright…but I can understand why," Ron muttered, falling back onto his bed with his hands locked behind his head.

"Seriously," said Seamus from his bed, who had listened to his roommates' conversation. "Who wouldn't be cocky when you have the entire female student body lusting after you? He's captain of the Huffelpuff Quidditch team too, Harry. You'll play him this year,"

This fact pleased Harry. Quidditch was something he could compete at. He was a formidable seeker. Beating the Huffelpuff team at Quidditch would certainly wipe Diggory's grin off.

"That's not all…" murmured Ron quietly. "Percy talks about all the goody-goody students who are rumored to become Prefects next year. Diggory's amongst them,"

_Great. Athletic, good grades, good looks…_

Harry sighed, defeated for the night, and settled into his covers. The crunching sound of paper caught his attention before he drew his crimson curtains shut. Seamus had tossed the Daily Prophet onto floor between their beds. On the front cover was the disheveled but furious Sirius Black screaming. Suddenly, Cedric Diggory didn't seem like such a problem anymore.


	2. Solicited Slips

Thank you to anyone continuing to read--Jack

: )

CHAPTER 2: Solicited Slips

"I have placed the names of students seated in the left half of this room--my left, not yours McAllister--inside of my hat. The right half will stand and come up by rows to draw a name out. This will be your partner for the remainder of the semester. It is un-exchanchable, unchangeable, non-refundable. Any attempts at disregarding my rule will be severely punished. Alright then, first row stand."

Harry eyed the other side of the room where the first row of students--which included Cedric Diggory--stood up and went to pull a paper slip out of the Professor's hat. They returned to their seats quickly and the other rows followed suit. There were only four rows, each with two people each in them. It was a small class, due to the fact the majority of the Hogwarts population were smart enough to avoid such academic torture as an Ancient Runes block period.

A lot of the girls seemed to be holding their breath. Their eyes were on Cedric hungrily, hoping for their name to be on that paper slip he held. The Professor placed his now empty hat back on his head and gestured that they should look at who they got and go sit with them. The ominous sound of crinkling paper drifted about the icy chamber. Then students--with mixed expressions--began to stand and pack their stuff to move. Some even braved a glance over at their partner across the room.

Suddenly, a shrill scream pierced the chamber. Harry whipped out his wand and spun around to face the last row on the other side of the classroom where a sixth year girl was clutching her face. The boy next to her was in a similar state of pain, though he wasn't shouting.

"I told you any rule breaking would be severely punished. Get out! To the infirmary you idiotic baboons!"

The two of them rushed from the room, but not before Harry took sight of the dark hair sprouting over their contorted faces. They had apparently tried to exchange their chosen partners.

"A transfiguration hex…used on students…" Hermione whispered weakly. "Punishment in the form of magic is forbidden,"

"If you don't want to be turned into a baboon as well, Ms. Granger, I suggest you shut up and join your partner," the Professor snapped, jerking towards the board to write something down.

Hermione dropped into her seat in a state of shock, while Harry pocketed his wand. His mouth had become quite dry in the commotion and he attempted swallowing a couple times so he could speak. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cedric Diggory slip his wand back into his robe discreetly. At least Harry hadn't been the only one to jump the gun.

Students moved quickly to sit with their partners after seeing their Professor's wrath. Hermione's face however, still froze in horror as a lanky Slytherin with body odor sauntered over to her. Harry looked around anxiously, for he seemed to be the only one without a partner.

Then, he felt the blood drain from his face as a certain, charming Huffelpuff glided over to him.

"Some excitement, eh, Potter?" Cedric spoke, flashing a white smile.

Harry was bizarrely numb yet buzzed with emotions and so his attempted, polite, smile made him look like he had drank one too many Butterbeers. Cedric's left brow arched upwards at Harry's expression but he didn't comment. Squeezed between the wall and Cedric at their cramped work table, Harry felt an unfamiliar surge of claustrophobia. He was typically fine with small places, having lived 11 years of his life in a cupboard beneath the stairs of the Dersley home.

However, there was something distinctively different about being crushed next to a person you don't know very well. The Professor had launched into an animated discussion of codes, a slightly mad look creeping into his eyes and his white wispy hair sticking out at an odd angle from his head. Harry began to doodle him on the corner of his parchment, loosing focus.

Upon feeling a stare, Harry turned to look at Cedric, who was peeping at his paper. His hazel eyes gleamed with deep amusement and he moved his hand down to reveal a doodle paper slipped beneath his notes with similar pictures on it. Harry was amazed to see a student with a record like Cedric's doodling in class. A large grin spread on his face.

"What's so funny, Mr. Potter?" demanded the Professor, his right, lazy eye drifting off in the other direction. This teacher caught everything.

"I…" started the raven haired boy.

Precisely then, the door to the chamber flew open to reveal a flustered McGonagall huffing there.

"P-Professor Wicket…I need to see you…immediately!" she choked out.

Harry had never seen her more angry in her life. The students eyed their Professor warily as he hunched by them. McGonagall had to be there about the Transfiguration Hex.

"Starking mad, that one," murmured Cedric, after Wicket and McGonagall had stepped out.

"Yeah, seriously," agreed Harry.

For a moment, they glanced at each other and stood on a mutual ground. There was a shared smile, then,

"You need to start paying better attention in class Potter," said Cedric airily, straightening out his notes on their table.

Harry's smile drooped to a soft scowl.

"I don't need your concern. Besides, you doodle too," Harry's tone was defensive.

Cedric leaned towards him, the way Quidditch Captains do towards their teammates before a match; head slightly bowed, eyes turned upward, expression of determination…

"I can always answer the questions Potter. And I answer them correctly," he said softly. His tone had a subtle danger laced into it, as if he had the perfect voice to make threats with. Not that he would, right?

Harry swallowed and then Hermione interrupted their supposedly private conversation by hissing,

"He's a straight A student Harry! And has been nominated for Prefect next year,"

It was Hermione's turn to be glared at. Did she have to rub that in so much? Harry shifted his gaze to Cederic, who seemed slightly embarrassed by Hermione's comments. But as quickly as it was there, it was gone, and the charismatic face of the popular Hufflepuff was set back in place. The black haired teen blinked his green eyes a few times to assure himself he hadn't just seen wrong.

Professor Wicket stumbled back in the room, uncharacteristically sober and told them to take out their textbooks to read up on the rest of the chapter. Harry bent over to get his book from his bag at the same time as his partner, and his head smacked into Cedric's. The latter let a light curse slip from his pouted lips. Harry winced and apologized before attempting to retrieve his book a second time. Again, his and Cedric's heads smacked into one another.

"Let's…just share, alright? It's cramped," Cedric snapped, placing a large hand on Harry's shoulder to hold him up as he bent down alone, to get them an Ancient Runes textbook.

Harry nodded dully, his focus on Cedric's hand. It was big, probably the biggest hand he had ever seen. The warmth of it surprised him. Why had he thought it would have been cold?

His gaze was pulled to the text book being opened in front of him. The hand slipped from his shoulder. Cedric turned his stool slightly, to give more space between him and Harry as they read. His back must have been touching the Slytherin next to him.

"I'm not this far along," said Harry, indicating the page number.

"What?" Cedric said, eyes disbelieving. "How are you going to read this eighty page chapter by Friday if you haven't even gotten as far as page twenty? You're time management skills are bloody terrible,"

Harry opened his mouth to protest angrily, but Cedric raised a warm finger to Harry's lips, barely a half and inch in front of them. It effectively silenced The Boy Who Lived.

"Look, I used to procrastinate too, but trust me, it's not the way to go. I have a mate who took this class last year and said it was a nightmare--"

"Then why are you taking it?" asked Harry, the movement causing his lips to brush across Cedric's forefinger accidentally. Both boys looked uncomfortable for a moment.

"Because…," spoke Cedric quietly, dropping his hand, "My Dad expected me to,"

Harry didn't press the matter further. The Hufflepuff had mentioned his Father with a rather stiff tone. Harry didn't need further details.

"Anyway," continued Cedric, "His tip was to study hard. That includes paying attention in class. Oh, and I'll warn you like he warned me Potter…this Professor loves to spring pop quizzes, so be prepared,"

The bell screeched shrilly, signaling the scrape of stools against stone as sixteen students gathered their belongings. A large, but gentle grip settled on Harry's upper arm as he made to leave the classroom. His gaze lifted to meet Cedric's, who smiled down at him kindly.

"Look Potter, I didn't mean to sound…like a git yesterday when I offered to tutor you. I just wanted to apologize for that,"

With that said, Cedric glided past Harry, joining his multitudes of friends waiting in the corridor for him.

"Harry…you're mouth is nearly touching the floor. Shut it, I told you Cedric was a gentleman," Hermione said the moment she reached him.

--

"B-But….it's not fair!" Ron exclaimed at dinner, a bit of chicken flying out of his open mouth. "How can one bloke get all the goods, I mean, Blimey…"

Harry and Hermione had just finished regurgitating their second Ancient Runes class to Ron at the dinner table, who flew into a rant.

"You know Ron…there are lots of girls who don't see Cedric as their cup of tea," Hermione commented.

Ron dug his own grave, as usual. "Well, we all know you're not one of those girls, Hermione,"

She had stormed from the Great Hall, brown, bushy hair bouncing behind her. Harry had this long suspicion for awhile that Hermione was crushing on Ron, and as their days went by at Hogwarts, he was being proved more and more right. Ron seemed to return her feelings too, but didn't possess the maturity to admit it.

Love makes people foolish.

Ron was flabbergasted as a flobberworm when Hermione left. "What'd I do?" he sputtered. Harry merely shrugged at him and picked a tart from the dessert tray. Changing the subject he asked,

"Your Dad have any more news on Sirius Black?"

Ron was distracted.

"Um…no…er…he's been quite busy at the ministry. Everyone….um…is…" his gaze kept jerking towards the big doors Hermione had fled through. Why doesn't he just chase after her, thought Harry with exasperation.

--

The next morning at breakfast, Hermione didn't join them, but sat instead with Lavender Brown towards the end of the Griffindor table. She looked thoroughly unhappy there, but her ridiculous pride kept her from returning until Ron apologized to her. Ron himself was being stubborn about it, not that any of this was new.

Staring moodily at his pancakes, Harry failed to see a pretty black owl soaring towards him. It landed gracefully on top on the coffee pot, startling him. It stuck out its leg expectantly, waiting for Harry to remove the small piece of parchment attached there. As soon as he had it off, the owl flew away out one of the high windows, presumably to retrun to the atrium.

His redhead friend was so out of it this morning, he didn't even notice the mail Harry had received. Curiosity bubbling up in him, Harry unfurled the tiny paper slip to see twisting strange symbols written on it. His black brow furrowed and he cocked his head to the side, as if the new angle would help him decipher it.

Booming chimes echoed throughout the Entrance Hall, announcing the end of breakfast. Harry ambled towards the front door, followed by other Griffindor first years and then first year Sytherins. They were all making their way down to Hagrid's cabin for Care of Magical Creatures. Outside, Harry eyed the Dementors far in the distance, along the Hogwart's perimeter. An involuntary shiver snaked up his spine.

Hagrid pulled Harry off to the side quickly before the lesson to tell him that he had some amazing creature for the upcoming lesson. To Harry, he felt he had just been given a death sentence. Knowing Hagrid, it was something truly ferocious. Besides that, however, he class was rather uneventful. Harry had to stand between Ron and Hermione, because the two refused to stand next to one another until the other apologized. Harry hated being caught in the middle.

On the way to Ancient Runes, the raven teen pulled out the slip of paper and eyed it. It looked familiar. Like he had seen these symbols before, if only briefly.But who had sent this to him?

--

Harry joined Cedric on his half of the room this time, to avoid feeling Hermione's negative aura creeping towards him. His mood was off enough without her assisting it.

Cedric gave him an odd smile as he sat down, as if the two of them shared some kind of big secret. Harry awkwardly smiled back, cheek twitching. Cederic had a layered personality.

Professor Wicket dug noisily through his desk and produced intimidating pieces of long parchment.

"Pop Quiz!" he piped, his right eye bulging with excitement.

"What….no…" Harry moaned, though his hand obediently took out his quill.

"I thought so Potter," Cedric addressed him with all seriousness. "You didn't read more of the chapter like you were supposed to,"

"What do you mean 'you thought so'?" said Harry acidly. His stomach churned in an upset manner. He wasn't in the mood for Prefect Hufflepuffs this morning.

"I sent you the alphabetical code we were supposed to learn last night in the book. The Runes spelled "test" Potter. I tried to warn you. If you had read the chapter, you would have known," Cedric shrugged at him, pulling out his own quill.

Harry's mood was dropping by the second. To top it off, because he hadn't read, the quiz was impossible for him to do. Thus, he turned it in blank with a very disapproving look from Professor Wicket. The class drug on for an eternity.

Cedric slid a piece of parchment over to Harry with writing on it. Green eyes drifted over the note.

We have a semester project in this class Potter. We should to get started soon. As your partner, it's my responsibility to see that you get your share of the work done.

Harry frowned grumpily but dipped his quill into his ink and replied:

Sure. You name the time and place I suppose. You're probably busier than I am.

Cedric glanced at the paper and then picked up his quill once more.

In the library this Saturday evening. Right after dinner. I'll meet you in the entryway. We'll discuss what we should do.

Harry read over it and simply nodded, folding the piece of parchment and slipping it into his bag. Class ended soon after that, and Harry joined Hermione, then Ron in the hall outside. They seemed to have made up at some point, because they were talking. Harry didn't understand them at all.

Love makes people crazy.


	3. Dialects in the Dust

Thank you to anyone continuing to read--Jack

: )

CHAPTER 3: Dialects in the Dust

Saturday evening arrived far more quickly than Harry had expected it to. He suddenly found himself hoisting his backpack through the shifting staircases, making his way to the library after supper.

Cedric was leaning against one of the grand pillars making up the library entry way. He graced Harry with a charming smile. It was different than the smile he wore around all day. It was the kind of smile that seemed it would only be shared amongst close friends. The raven haired boy's lips lifted at the corners in response. It was becoming a natural thing with Cedric. One smiles, then the other smiles in return.

The past few days in class, the two had begun warming up to one another. On Thursday, Cedric was scrawling dirty jokes on his doodle paper in Ancient Runes, almost landing Harry in a lot of trouble when he couldn't stop laughing. Cedric wasn't helping his partner much on focusing in class. Oops.

"Ready to get to work Potter?" Cedric asked lightly, bringing Harry back to the present, and tilting his head in the direction of the library. They drifted all the way to the back, to a rather secluded corner. Harry's eyebrows raised at the location. Cedric suddenly seemed embarrassed.

"I have to work back here, because otherwise the girls will find me and I won't get any work done,"

Harry wondered what it must feel like to be stalked by the female student body.

"I see," he accepted, sitting down at the table. "Scary,"

"Yeah, sometimes," agreed Cedric quietly, pulling out his books. Harry really hadn't been expecting him to agree. His mouth fell open but he managed to shut it before Cedric noticed.

"So…what did you have in mind for this…our…project?" asked Harry, sliding down in his seat a bit.

"Not sure. We could do a timeline of sorts…of the history of Runes…but that would be boring and typical. You have any ideas Potter?"

"None whatsoever. You keep brainstorming,"

Cedric laughed at this; a clear pitched baritone ricocheting off of the dusty shelves. Something in Harry's stomach shifted and a strange heat rose to his cheeks. It was gone quickly and he brushed it off, staring pointedly at the table.

"My Dad has documents and things of that sort he could get at the Ministry. Documents of Runes that haven't been translated or decoded yet. We could pick one of those to translate. That'd be impressive," Cedric mumbled, more to himself than to Harry.

That seemed a project more fit for Hermione than to him. Harry didn't know a thing about codes or Runes. He didn't even fully grasp the one Cedric had written to him that one morning after reading the chapter. He was hopeless.

"How's that sound Potter?"

"Um..fine, I suppose. But I don't know how much of a help I'll be. I don't understand Runes very well,"

"I'll tutor you too then. I'll send an owl to my Dad tonight asking about some documents,"

Cedric gestured towards Harry's unopened textbook on the table.

"Have you read the chapter yet?"

"Yes,"

The fifth year leaned forward, his bangs slipping down over his eyes, and then placed a single finger in a dusty patch on the table. He drug it around, forming seven little symbols.

"What does this say then?" he quizzed, withdrawing his finger from the dust.

"Erm…" muttered Harry, drawing a blank.

He had just followed Cedric's hand around with his eyes. He was developing a fixation for that boy's hands for whatever reason. Harry felt they held a lot of personality. The scattered blonde hairs, the occasional freckle, the scar spreading over his first and middle finger…

The rest of their evening, Cedric spent the time explaining alphabetical Runes in a way Harry could understand. Harry left the library five minutes before curfew feeling decidedly smarter than an entire week of Ancient Runes classes had made him. Cedric had communicated the information well.

--

Up in the common room of Griffindor tower, Dean, Seamus, and Ron were locked in a fierce battle with exploding cards. They were competing to see who could build the tallest castle before the explosion occurred. Ron's eyebrows were singed and tiny embers glowed in them. Seamus had dark ash smudges across his face.

Their rowdy game kept them occupied allowing Harry to slip up to the dormitory, not wanting to be coaxed into the competition. No doubt they had money or something else bet on it.

Slinging his backpack off more forcibly than he'd meant to, Harry jumped when it crashed against Seamus' bedside table. The bottom drawer slid out due to the force, revealing several colorful magazines. Harry, intrigued, walked over and squatted next to it. To his surprise, he discovered that they were dirty magazines; porn. He couldn't believe Seamus had something like this in his dresser. First off, items such as these were forbidden at Hogwarts and secondly, who would buy Seamus something like this?

He was prepared to shut the drawer and forget that he had ever seen its contents. But the side of him that was simply a thirteen year old, adolescent boy made him pick up the stack instead.

Glancing at each cover quickly, he rotated them around until he got to the last one, which if possible, shocked him more than just discovering Seamus' porn. The front picture did not sport a vivacious, curvy woman with inviting eyes like the others. This one had a lean, muscular man on it, half naked with his head thrown back.

For a reason Harry didn't understand, it was this magazine in particular that brought a flush to his face. Then, as if he were suddenly repulsed by what he was holding, he organized the pile back to normal and thrust them back into the drawer. Just as quickly, he scrambled out of his clothes and into the communal bathroom where he refreshed himself with an icy shower.

He slipped into bed soon after that feeling as though he'd run a marathon. What he was running from, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he felt dirtier looking at the cover with the man on it than he did of the women. Why would Seamus have a magazine like that anyway? Harry felt he should have never have picked up the magazines in the first place.

The raven haired boy fell asleep, his mind filled with muddled thoughts and confusion. Confusion about the stirrings in his stomach, how Seamus got a hold of that 'stuff', and why he felt he was still running, running, running…

_There were large boulders everywhere, transcribed with Runes from every era. They crisscrossed and over lapped together. Harry was sprinting through the rocks, frightened. Suddenly, a Cedric Diggory twice the size of Hagrid apparated with a large ruler in Harry's path. He smacked the ruler a couple of times in the palm of his hand. _

"_Can you read the Runes Potter? No? Study Harder!"_

_Then Seamus Finnegan appeared, running around like a mad man holding all of his dirty magazines. One fell out of his arms as he passed Harry; it was the one with the man on the front. But wait, it wasn't the man from before. It was…_

Harry jolted upright in bed, panting. He had a cold sweat beaded across his forehead and his sheet were in a damp tangle around his legs. Disheveled and upset, Harry disentangled himself and wandered into the bathroom. Splashing cold water on his face and on the back of his neck helped calm Harry significantly. He stared at himself in the mirror for a moment, absorbing his image. The Harry Potter that looked somberly back at him had pale blue bags under his green eyes. Black tendrils clung to his forehead from washing his face, and his skin was paler than normal. He watched himself sigh and then left the bathroom to return to bed.

--

The next morning, the regal black owl Harry assumed to belong to Cedric landed on the table and thrust out its leg. Harry deftly untied the small piece of parchment and opened it. It was Runes more difficult than last time; most likely the dialect introduced the chapter Harry was supposed to start last night.

The black haired teen looked over his shoulder towards the Hufflepuff table where he caught Cedric's warm, hazel gaze. Harry had to look away briefly before making eye contact again. He felt weird after Cedric had appeared in his dream.

Harry shrugged over at Cedric, hoping to drive the point across that he didn't know what the hell Cedric had written to him. The gesture earned him a soft frown that made his stomach sink. Harry was slowly becoming friends with Cedric. Disappointing friends was not something he got off on.

Cedric mouthed the word 'read' at him and then got up with his Quidditch crowd. The Hufflepuff team had the pitch reserved for practice this morning. A pang of envy crept over Harry. He missed flying badly and was eager to practice as well.

Harry's mind backtracked to when Cedric had mouthed 'read' at him. Harry's eyes had automatically traced the shape of the young man's lips as he said it, and took note of the sparkle in his eye. Since when did he pay attention to that much detail? And on a guy at that? Suddenly, Harry's stomach grew upset and he pushed his plate of eggs away grudgingly.

"You okay mate?" asked Ron, spooning up his own eggs hungrily.

"Fine. Just not much of an appetite," Harry responded, granting his friend a reassuring nod. "Look, I have some homework to catch up on, so I'm heading to the library,"

Hermione looked delighted at this.

"Good for you Harry!" she beamed. "I'll join you. You should come too Ron. I know you couldn't have possibly finished that Charms essay yet for Flitwick,"

Ron grumbled and muttered underneath his breath most of the way to the library. As they passed a window, Harry glanced out and caught sight of the Quidditch pitch. Tiny golden robed figures zoomed around far below in the distant stadium. He couldn't make out who was who.

In the library, they picked Hermione's favorite table and set to work. Reading the Runes textbook wasn't nearly as dry as Harry had feared it would be. He was thankful for this small blessing. Ron had his elbow on the table, his face leaning on his palm as he scribbled down his essay. His work was sloppy, consisting of ink splotches, spelling errors, and long lines drawn through sentences.

"That is just your rough draft, right Ron?" Hermione said slowly, her perfectionism practically crawling across the table towards him.

"Hmm, nope," he grunted back.

Harry took the opportunity to reach the windowsill next to their table and scrawl in his learned Runes 'F-I-N-A-L -D-R-A-F-T' in the collected dust for Hermione to read. For a short minute she was elated with his progress, and then she rounded on Ron for his messy essay being his final draft. Harry looked down at his soiled finger, slightly depressed. His hand hadn't looked nearly as cool tracing the Runes in the dust as a certain someone else's hand had. Maybe it was because Cedric had done the Runes upside down for him to read…but Harry just felt his own hands lacked personality.

He closed his eyes and imagined the next time Cedric and him would meet for the project and tutoring. Would he slide his finger along the dusty, aged wood again? Harry felt a blush burning on his cheeks. Why he would be so embarrassed was beyond him. It wasn't like he was having dirty thoughts or anything? Or was he--Harry shook his head roughly. Dirty thoughts about Cedric? The eggs must have gotten to him at breakfast.

Was it wrong of him to see the glide of Cedric's slender fingers as sensual? The use of the word 'sensual' added a whole new layer of wrong to the situation. Harry mentally dropped all his thoughts into a trash bin and casually swiped the dust off the windowsill when Hermione wasn't paying attention.


	4. Powdered Prints

Thank you to anyone continuing to read--Jack

: )

CHAPTER 4: Powdered Prints

Harry awoke Monday morning feeling as though he hadn't slept at all. He had the dream with the boulders and giant Cedric again. It was so messed up. His unruly hair was even messier today than usual. Nothing could tame it, not even a desperate combing charm from Hermione was of assistance.

So Harry sat in Ancient Runes that day looking as though he had just rolled out of bed. Cedric had stared at him with an odd expression but didn't make any comment on it, to Harry immense relief. He didn't feel like being teased this morning. What was truly amusing however, was that Professor Wicket actually complimented his bed head.

"Your hair looks quite manicured today Mr. Potter. I like it," Wicket had spoke.

Harry felt his hair must resemble Professor Wicket's wild, wind washed mop and that is why he found Harry's hair style appealing. It made him become self-conscious, sitting next to the primped and presentable Cedric Diggory. It even hurt a little, when he heard Cedric snigger quietly at the Professor's comment.

After the Professor's back was turned, Cedric whipped out a spare piece of parchment and wrote down:

_**My Dad got a hold of the documents we can use for our project. They are notes of a renowned wizard philosopher in the 16th century. We need to be very careful with them.**_

_Alright. When do we start cracking then?_

_**You're eager Potter… How about tonight in the library? Just meet me at the table after dinner.**_

As he had with the last letter, Harry folded this note up and dropped it into his bag after a quick nod at Cedric. His cheeks were feeling warm again.

Looks like he was making the library his new home. He had spent more time here he felt in the past week than he had the previous two years combined. Soon, he would be tying with Hermione for most hours spent at the Hogwart's library. For a moment, he wondered absurdly if house points were awarded for something like that.

--

Harry was feeling nervous for some reason as he strode towards the library that evening. He'd been jogging--which he hadn't realized until Snape had caught him and deducted ten points from Griffindor for it. The third year was too anxious to be angry about the point loss right now. He had asked for it anyway, by racing through the halls. Snape would probably drop over dead if he knew Harry actually accepted Snape's punishment. That would be a sight to behold.

Slowing down considerably, it took Harry a minute to find his way back to the secluded table through the maze of shelves. Cedric looked up and smiled at him in greeting. Harry's breath caught in his throat. There were two lit candles on the table, providing extra light in the shadowy corner and their trickling light illuminated Cedric's handsome alabaster face flatteringly.

Harry hoped his gasp wasn't noticeably. He was wrong.

"Did you think I was a ghost, Potter?" teased the Hufflepuff in a friendly manner, shifting papers on the desk.

Harry swallowed thickly and sat down across from his Ancient Runes partner.

"No," he answered, but even his voice couldn't mask the lying tone. He may not have seen Cedric as a ghost but he had certainly seen him as something--

To his relief, Cedric didn't pry. Instead, he pushed old documents in Harry's direction.

"This is what we're working with," he announced, gesturing light heartedly at the 400 year old notes.

"This looks like chicken scratch!" Harry cried indignantly. He was lucky to be seated in the back, farthest away from the librarian's desk. She would have scolded him for being too noisy.

"Yes, and now I understand why the Ministry has been unable to decipher it in the ten years since it was found," Cedric chuckled softly, though his voice held a sardonic tone.

"Did they at least get a start?" asked Harry, eyeing the papers reluctantly.

"Nope. Let's hope we can make history together by being the first to do it," replied Cedric optimistically. Too optimistic, in Harry's opinion.

'I've aleady made enough history…' his thoughts added darkly.

This was already deemed an impossible task in Harry's mind. He could barely manage the alphabetical Runes and the other dialects they transformed into over the centuries. Cedric seemed to read his thoughts.

"Don't worry Potter. We'll continue tutoring. I'll whip you into shape and in the mean time, I can work on this on my own,"

Sidetracked, Harry asked,

"Aren't you nervous having those old paper documents around flame?"

"Harry, these are valuable Ministry documents. They are so magically reinforced that they're nearly indestructible,"

Thinking back on it later, Harry realized how stupid of a question it had been.

--

Again. They were in the library again two nights later. It was becoming a regular thing for them and the constant help from Cedric was really raising Harry's Ancient Runes grades. He kept thanking Cedric for helping him so much, which left the older boy decidedly flustered. Cedric had heard that Harry Potter was modest for being an international legend but the boy really took him off guard sometimes.

Tonight was something Cedric referred to as hands-on learning. At first, the words sounded slightly perverted to Harry, and the raven haired adolescent wondered if his mind had been tainted by just glancing at the covers of Seamus' magazines. He was taking things really wrong and felt he was disrespecting his upperclassman by doing so.

Cedric had obtained flour from the kitchens. It didn't really occur to Harry that there would be a kitchen in Hogwart's, which was foolish considering that the feasts had to be prepared somewhere. He was very curious and wanted to ask more questions about the kitchens but Cedric suddenly tipped the bag of flour over the table and poured a hefty pile. After setting the bag aside on the floor, he used his hand to spread the flour across the breadth of the table in a thin, snowy layer.

He brushed his hands off, producing a small opaque cloud between them.

"Alright. We are going to hold an entire conversation through Achuaric Runes. We'll paint the Runes in the flour,"

"Those are the hardest ones," grumbled Harry in protest, but he rolled up the sleeves of his robe.

"Good boy," Cedric purred coyly, a hint of sarcasm in the wink he tossed in Harry's direction. The latter's stomach did some funny flips. Lately, Cederic had been teasing Harry to the point it was borderline flirting. Harry didn't know how to react most of the time.

"Anything for you, Professor Diggory," Harry retorted while rolling his eyes, though his voice was draped in velvet.

Cedric's mouth fell clear open and he stared wide eyed at Harry. He teased the raven haired youth a lot, but never had Harry actually begun teasing back. Until now, that is. An uncomposed Cedric was worth the shedding of dignity Harry had to do to be able to pull off a 'seductive' voice.

"A-Anyway," started Cedric, rolling up his own sleeves. His voice cracked as he said it and his hands trembled ever so slightly as he moved the candles out of the way. Harry would not flatter himself into believing he had _that _sort of effect on the Hufflepuff. It was simply the candlelight playing tricks on him.

Cedric took the initiative and started drawing the complicated, old Runes out in the flour. They spanned out, twisted and mangled, across the delicate white powder. This was going to take Harry ages to decipher.

"Can I use my book?" he asked Cedric who nodded back at him.

Harry pulled out his book and began painstakingly pulling apart the characters so he could figure out what the message was. If he found this hard, there was no telling what his frustration level would be once he started working on the philosopher's documents with Cedric.

The first set of Runes translated to 'You are'. Feeling quite accomplished, Harry set off onto the next set of Runes with new vigor. Cedric watched him quietly. Fifteen minutes later, he had the second set. 'Bold tonight'.

His face flushed brightly and he was thankful for the dim lighting.

Now it was his turn to write back.

Harry's hand hovered over the table for a moment as he contemplated what he should write back. Should he participate in this dangerous game? Because this is all it was. A dangerous game. It should be ok, it he played it safe. After all, Cedric instigated it. They were only joking around.

Cedric showed sympathy on Harry by not watching as he slowly--very slooowly--began scrawling his own message back. It was difficult, and he had this nagging sensation that he spelled something the wrong way, by choosing the wrong character. When he was done, Cedric turned to look at the crudely drawn Runes and studied them. It took him a while to figure it out, but not nearly as much a Harry.

_You can't handle it?_

Harry tried to gauge the fifth year's reaction, but Cedric's face was stoic. He simply reached out and began to paint his own message back. Cederic was very proficient at writing Runes. Admiration swelled in Harry's chest for the Hufflepuff as his gorgeous hand danced across the table, spilling out characters as it did so. Cedric had a gift, that was for sure.

Harry again started the process of deciphering. He cut his time down by five minutes, which was a start. Cedric Diggory had been right. He only needed practice. And patience. The raven haired teen had been tingling with nervousness and anticipation as Cedric had written back. The sensation continued persistently throughout the entire time Harry spent translating. Then the message revealed itself.

_Want to find out?_

An intense swirl of emotions flared inside of Harry's abdomen and he was seeing tiny little stars blinking to life in front of his vision for a moment. This…this was flirting. They were flirting. That was what this was. No. It was a joke, a game. It's just a bloody game Harry, calm down!

Something was different inside of the thirteen year old Griffindor. He was suddenly very afraid. So afraid, he was willing to do anything to escape the fear. A very uncharacteristic smirk spread over his face. Then he laughed lightly, like he and Cedric had been sharing old family memories.

"You have quite the sense of humor," Harry said slowly, before standing.

"W-Where are you going?" Cedric asked quickly, standing up also. A brief instance of panic had flickered over his facial features.

"Are you not keeping track of time? We're barely going to make curfew," answered Harry, shocked. Forget saved by the bell. Saved by the clock is more like it.

Cedric Diggory had lost track of time. Some nomination for Prefect. The Hufflepuff fifth year seemed to be thinking that. His expression was odd.

"Uh right," he said croakily, withdrawing his wand and cleaning up the flour with a hasty banishing spell.

Harry said goodnight and turned to go but Cedric stopped him with his words.

"Potter…I'm going to be rather busy for the next couple of weeks, so..um…you'll have to manage on your own,"

Something seemed very off between them. They were both standing at the edge of the same cliff. Who was going to be pushed off?

"Right," said Harry curtly, moving swiftly away through the rows of books. Cedric simply watched him go.

--

In Ancient Ruins, things transformed into something incredibly business like between Harry and Cedric. There were no more jokes, games, or even smiles. It was simply sit down, take notes, pay attention, leave. Then they would come back again to do the same thing the next day. It seemed to be an unspoken agreement between the two of them to not speak of what happened in the library that evening a week ago; the 'push the envelope' messages in flour.

Well, in fact, neither of them really talked at all in class. Not even through note passing, like they had before. There was a high tension between them that Harry believed was related to the fear he was feeling. They had taken the dangerous game too far. Now it seemed threatening to them.

Luckily, no one noticed the change in their relationship. Had their friendship been that discreet? Harry supposed it had been. The thought made his chest ache painfully. Lately, he felt like something was rattling around in his chest cavity…like there was suddenly a big empty space. He started to wonder what exactly Cedric had taken with him when they stopped speaking.

A second week rolled around without the two of them speaking. As time grew, so did the ache in Harry's chest. He would sometimes get waves of depression or other times, strong urges to go say hello to Cedric Diggory; some kind of contact. Hermione and Ron began picking up on his depression.

"Mate, why aren't you eating anything? You have Quidditch practice this morning. You need to be a little more pumped, if you don't want Fred and George to knock you off your broom," Ron stated, forking bacon and sausage onto Harry's plate.

Quidditch…practice. Harry had completely forgotten! An energy he hadn't felt in some time came flooding through his system and for the first time it seemed in two weeks, cracked a smile. He picked up his silverware and attacked his breakfast ravenously, startling his two friends.

"At least he's eating…" murmured Ron quietly to Hermione, who nodded.

Moments later, Harry was tearing out of the Great Hall, making a mad dash up to Griffindor Tower to grab his broomstick and change into his practice robes.

Down on the green of the Quidditch pitch, Harry inhaled deeply. The smell of grass, wood polish, detergent, sweat…the smell of Quidditch that he loved so much. Oliver Wood went over their practice layouts and season goals. Everyone was super stoked for their first practice. Wood flicked up silver latches releasing the balls and everyone took off.

Up in the air, Harry felt as though all his problems and anxieties were Earthbound, left behind on the field. He felt light, powerful, and free. A delicious moment of ecstasy encased his form, and he threw his head back and smiled as a cool breeze caressed his neck.

He pulled out of his reverie and scanned the area for a glint of gold. He saw it, flitting side to side underneath Oliver Wood's arse. He took off, and the Griffindor captain was beyond perplexed as to why Harry was speeding towards him. But then the high pitched hum of little wings reached his ear and he pulled away from the area, leaving Harry free range.

The golden orb made a sharp dive for the ground as Harry approached, and the Seeker made an equally steep plummet after it. All his teammates stopped and watched transfixed as Harry Potter flew straight at the ground, his gloved hand out stretched.

The Griffindor team erupted in cheers as the snitch became encased in Harry's sweaty hand. It was an extremely quick catch. He pulled out of the dive and flew over to them, grinning broadly. The adrenaline felt amazing.

"Oy, someone was watching us practice," said an annoyed George.

"Yeah, look!" added Fred, pointing a figure that disappeared out of the pitch.

Oliver Wood looked peeved more than anything.

"At least we weren't practicing any serious plays. We just watched our brilliant seeker make a Kamikaze fighter out of himself," Wood smirked, punching Harry lightly in the arm.

Harry and the others laughed, the 'visitor' forgotten. The Griffindor team then continued the rest of their practice without further problems.

--

Harry was making his way through the castle, heading back to Griffindor tower for a shower. Harry had needed this sort of release for a while. He didn't think it could have come at a better time.

As he walked briskly down a corridor near the Hufflepuff residency, a high pitched giggle caught he attention. He paused, glancing down the nearest hallway branching off the corridor he was in. Harry thought he saw some shadows shift and he stepped back to give himself a better angle to see. He immediately regretted doing so.

Cedric Diggory was locked in a very deep kiss with long haired, blonde beauty from Ravenclaw. Her thin arms were wrapped around his neck and in return, he had his strong arms around her waist. Unfortunately, because of Harry's new developed habit of taking in detail, he didn't fail to notice their entwining tongues, or how tightly their fronts were crushed together.

The world spun briefly and Harry felt an intense nausea overwhelm him. He covered his mouth, afraid he was going to be sick. Losing his balance, the raven haired third year stumbled backwards into a suit of armor, a loud clang announcing his presence.

If possible, Harry looked more horrified at being noticed, than they themselves seemed at being caught in the act. Well, Cedric looked particularly mortified. Harry managed to gasp a tiny apology and made a dash for the nearest bathroom. It took awhile for the nausea to go away. Harry leaned against the cold sink, feeling miserably ill. Did he get food poisoned at breakfast? No, he would have felt it at practice. Oh, practice. He probably exerted himself too much. He hadn't eaten in a while either. So that explains it.

But Harry couldn't come up with a reason why his eyes were burning. Or why a lump was firmly lodged in his throat.

"Dammit!" he bit out murderously.

Harry could pinpoint his emotions. Sometimes that was a good thing, other times it wasn't so good. Like now, it was not so good, for he realized he felt betrayed.

Those two weeks of feeling empty, of feeling loss, of feeling lonely…of hoping that that Cedric wasn't just blowing him off or avoiding him…was just a big waste. He stopped tutoring Harry and let their friendship fall apart because of a girl. Harry was willing to bet 10 galleons that the girl Cedric was seeing protested about how much time Harry was taking up. Time he could be spending with her. Harry could practically hear her candied voice demanding,

"Who's more important to you?"

--

No one was in the dormitory when Harry returned, which was common, considering in was a warm Sunday afternoon. Harry undressed and climbed straight into his PJ bottoms, not bothering with a shower. He lay in bed, curtains drawn as if he were planning to nap. However, he wasn't tired. He just wanted seclusion.

His mind drifted to the kiss against his will. The girl was very pretty. Cedric seemed very experienced, his tongue lightly sliding across her pouted lower lip.

Harry turned over gruffly, pulling his pillow over his head. He didn't want to think about it. In thirteen years, Harry Potter had never been kissed. The fact didn't necessarily bother him. It wasn't really all that important. But still, he wondered what it…….felt like. A tongue…sliding across lips. No, don't think about that. Harry rolled over the other way, leaving his pillow behind. He stared morosely at his drawn crimson curtains. A kiss…a wet heat…a tight embrace. Shit. He wasn't supposed to be thinking like this.

An urge floated into his mind that sparked the side of Harry not many people would get to see. He pulled back his crimson curtains and quickly stooped in front of Seamus' dresser. His hands hooked around the stack and he carried them back to his bed. Harry speedily drew the curtains shut, feeling rather shaky.

He picked up the first magazine and opened it up to the centerfold. A beautiful woman was stark naked, legs spread to reveal her shaved genitals and her hands cupping her large breasts. His penis stiffened automatically at the sight. In a matter of seconds he was half erect, a noticeable bulge in his pants. But the woman wasn't what he was truly after. That was a test. He knew and now had the proof he found women attractive. From his diminished crush on Cho Chang to the porn star revealing herself in the magazine.

Harry's trembling hands pulled the dirty magazine with the man on the front of it out from the pile. This was wrong, he told himself. This isn't how I'm supposed to be. This isn't what my parents would want, or Ron, or Hermione, or…

The black haired youth allowed the magazine to fall open to the center fold. Paper unfolded to reveal the attractive man on the cover, all his clothes removed, his hand gripping his erect penis. Harry's wide green eyes traced the contours of the man's sculpted body, before unabashedly staring at his cock. Harry's own manhood went from half erect, to a full on, blatant pulsing erection. He knew now. He knew.

He was overwhelmed with crushing emotions. It was hard to label yourself as bi-sexual or gay when you've been 'straight' for so long. Harry felt as if he were to attach the word to himself in anyway, some enormous explosion would set off somewhere, destroying him in its wake. He felt if he were to label himself that, then suddenly, everyone else would know too.

Despite the cold-shower conversation, Harry's erection was persistent. His thoughts drifted to the handsome Hufflepuff he had befriended. He thought about Cedric's hands, his beautiful hands, and…


	5. Blackened Boundaries

_Thank you to anyone continuing to read--Jack_

_**IMPORTANT!!**_

--Scenes from the third book are going to start appearing from now on…_**BUT **_they won't be identical to JKR's. I'm writing these scenes strictly from memory. I don't have any of my books to reference to at this moment. So things could be out of order from the way they occurred in Prisoner of Azkaban. I'll make it work for my purpose however. Don't scorn me…this is a fan fiction after all.

p.s. For all you Lupin fans out there, don't murder me. I dropped him completely from the book. OO I really love his character, I do…but he's just too much to fit it. Forgiveness please. I'll make things work.

CHAPTER 5: Blackened Boundaries

The desire to skip class had never tempted Harry Potter as much as it did that next Monday morning. He awoke in a cloak of suffocating emotions; a mixture of shame, disgust, and dread. Mondays had never brought him such misery before.

He took a brief shower and dressed for the day as he always did, donning himself in the school required black robes. He fiddled with the clasp longer than usual because it was being unusually stubborn. Then in a nasty rip, the thread broke and the clasp tumbled to the floor. Streams of curses flew from his lips and Harry angrily began Reparo charms to reattach it. Dean eyed him nervously as he left the dorm.

Hermione didn't arrive at breakfast until five minutes before the bell. She had a thin coat of sweat on her forehead and looked exhausted. However, she brushed off any questions as to her appearance or where she had been. Harry and Ron had never seen her shovel down food at such a rapid pace and she finished her plate before the first bell. The redhead male was thoroughly impressed.

" 'Mione, that was brilliant!" he deduced, thumping the table with a delighted fist.

"Thank you Ron," she answered curtly, wiping her mouth. Then the bell screeched its daily chime.

The three Griffindors headed up to the Astronomy Tower grudgingly. They had never enjoyed Professor Trelawney's antics. Today, they were performing Tasseomancy. Or in other words, they were going to be drinking tea and searching for mystical messages from the cosmos in their remaining tea leaves.

Half an hour later, Harry and Ron peered hard into their exchanged tea cups, only seeing goopy clumps of mush. Ron leaned over to Harry an whispered animatedly,

"Oy, Harry. I better a fantastic babe at the bottom of my cup. And a clump of leaves needs to tell me that I'm going to be incredibly wealthy one day. How about it mate?"

Harry grinned and dipped his cup (technically Ron's) towards Ronald.

"I dunno mate. Maybe this is a sign that you need to wash the growing collection of dirty socks at the bottom of your trunk…"

Ron's cup was abruptly yanked from his large, freckled hands and he whipped around to meet Professor Trelawney's bug eyed stare.

"Oh…oh….!" she moaned, releasing the cup and allowing it to shatter on the floor. The room went silent.

"Harry Potter. Oh, Harry Potter. Such a misfortunate boy! You have nothing but pain and loss in your life. Now your death lies in your immediate future!" she wailed, her many beaded necklaces rattling.

Students exchanged looks; Professor Trelawney became more dramatic every school year. Pavarti Patil and Lavender Brown were absolutely mortified however. Everyone knew they were Trelawney's kiss asses though.

"Sod off, you ol' coot," said Ron boldly, standing up, face as red as his hair. "Don't say that about Harry."

Trelawney seemed momentarily offended but then pointed a long, shaky finger at the bottom of the cup that remained intact.

"T-The Grim lies at the b-bottom of his glass!" she croaked, color draining from her face. A lot of the students suddenly became more tuned in, their faces tight and serious. Whispers were traveling amongst them.

"This is a load of rubbish!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed, standing up to join Ron in an aggressive posture. "I'm done with this pointless class!"

She snatched up her bag and left the Astronomy tower, robes billowing. Ron turned to Harry, gaping. The bell rang mercifully quick after that and people started packing up. Trelawney came over cautiously, looking as though she were approaching a very sensitive bomb. The bomb being Harry, of course.

Her voice was so low, Harry had to strain to hear it properly.

"How unusual. You have an Ancient Rune at the bottom of your cup also. It translates to a most unusual 'secret',"

She tsked softly then added,

"My, what are you hiding?"

--

Harry sat completely immobile on his stool in Ancient Runes next period. He had been so pale after his encounter in the Astronomy Tower that even nutzy Professor Wicket noticed and had asked if he'd like to go see Madam Pomfrey. The third year didn't even hear him. Harry was so bogged down and lost inside himself that he didn't noticed Cedric's worried gaze on him. The hazel eyes repeatedly kept looking over at him and down at his frozen hands; hands that should have been taking notes. The fifth year attempted seizing Harry's attention through bumping a note against his arm. But it might have been a draft of air for all the effect it had on Harry.

Hermione too, kept glancing over at Harry. Finally when the classes ended, she bulldozed through the exiting students over to him. She gruffly began shoving his things back into his bag for him.

"Don't let that nasty hag's talk get to you!" she seethed. "It's a load of crock and you know it!"

Cedric glanced at Hermione--he had never seen the brunette's temper before. It was quite formidable.

"What woman's talk?" he asked casually, shouldering his backpack after one more quick glance at his mute Ancient Runes partner.

"Oh! That _horrible _Divination Professor!" Hermione replied, refusing to speak Trelawny's name. "She spewed all these morbid foretellings of Harry's future. I can't believe he actually took her seriously!"

"Hermione, it's not lies. You didn't stick around for the rest of the reading. She saw something else too," Harry said quietly, speaking for the first time in an hour.

Cedric felt relief flood his system as he heard Hermione's explanation and now that Harry was speaking, it made him feel better too.

For some reason, he had been incredibly upset about what Harry had seen yesterday. Why it upset him was still a gray area. Cedric had ended up concluding that he wanted to maintain the role model student figure for Harry to look up to. But when his class partner had walked in today, not even looking at him, not responding to his attempts to communicate, well, Cedric had assumed it had to do with the kiss Harry had witnessed. And beyond that, Harry's behavior made him feel guilty for even kissing the Ravenclaw. Very guilty.

And he shouldn't even have felt way.

Cedric knew that Harry wasn't conversational at the moment and Hermione seemed to have control over the situation. He began to walk away.

"Harry, the Grim is a..myth! That witch has been foretelling your death since our first year. Two encounters with the Dark Lord since then, and look, you're still here. Alive," Hermione hissed under her breath.

Cedric couldn't believe what he had just overheard. Granger's anger had made her whispers louder than she intended and the Hufflepuff learned that Harry Potter had not one, but three encounters with He Who Must Not Be Named and survived each time. Beyond that, You Know Who was supposed to have vanished, vanquished by Harry Potter when the boy was only an infant; the only one encounter known to the public; the one where he received the scar. Voldemort was back?

When Cedric managed to pull out of his disturbing internal questions, the two Griffindors were gone and he was standing in an empty classroom.

--

The next day, Harry ate a full breakfast. He had snuck down to Hagrid's the night before and had tea with his half-giant friend. But what made it so great is that he had told Hagrid everything: the Grim, his faltering relationship with Cedric, and after sputtering his tea a few times, choked out his sexual confusion.

Hagrid had comforted Harry far beyond his expectations. Some of the comfort was on purpose, others by accident. The accident was because Hagrid had one of his usual verbal slip ups, where he spoke exactly what was going through his head, whether he was supposed to say it or not.

First, he stated that the Grim was indeed a myth, and that Divination was a load of rubbish. (Words taken straight from Hermione's mouth). He told Harry that people who are nominated and elected for a Prefect position are usually good people on top of having a solid gold record, which means that 'this Diggory fellow' hadn't given up on his and Harry's blossoming friendship. Not only that, but the Hufflepuff House stood for integrity and loyalty. Students selected for that house had to genuinely be good people.

Hagrid also spoke that although James could be closed minded at time, he would not have loved Harry any less and learned to accept his sexuality quickly. James had been quite immature growing up, but Lily helped him become a great man.

Hearing Hagrid tell him his parents would have accepted and still loved him had they been alive to discover this made Harry extremely happy and content. The blanket of heaviness that had been draped over him since Sunday lightened. It was then that Hagrid had his little slip up--a slip up that made Harry's absolute day.

"Well, you know the Headmaster's gay, so don't let anybody tell you a homosexual can't be a great witch or wizard--oh no, Harry! You didn' hear that! You didn' hear that from me. You…you should go off to bed now. It's late 'arry. Go'on!"

With that, Harry was shoved by an enormous hand out the cottage's front door.

"Don't breathe a word of this to anyone Harry. Promise me, please," Hagrid begged, handing the teen his Father's invisibility cloak.

"I won't Hagrid. I promise," smiled Harry, donning the cloak.

True to his word, Harry didn't tell anyone. Not even his best friends Ron and Hermione. This was his treasured secret. Dumbledore…the greatest wizard the magical world has ever seen…was gay. He wasn't alone, and his ally was incredible.

--

A goofy grin spread across his face and some of the porridge he was eating dribbled out of his mouth. He wiped it off with a napkin, still smiling. Ron was whining about what Harry was so cheery about at seven in the morning. The response Ron got was a mere shrug.

"He's happy, so what does it matter?" insisted Hermione, placing her hand on Ron's shoulder.

He looked down at it with wide eyes and Hermione blushed, yanking her hand back. Ron's ears went pink. Harry watched the exchange feeling more amused than usual. He was sniggering uncontrollably by the time a black owl swooped down onto the table. Cederic's owl.

Instinctively, Harry turned around to look at the Hufflepuff table. Cedric's clear gaze met his and Harry bit his lip subconsciously. This was the first time in two days they had made eye contact; first eye contact since…the kiss.

The fifth year's eyes still held that warmth Harry had glimpsed before in their nights at the library. Cedric made a minute gesture that mimicked opening a letter. Harry returned to facing forward and removed rolled parchment from Cedric's impatient owl. In a flutter of feathers it was gone and Harry was unfurling the letter. In simple alphabetical Runes it read:

_**Meet me in the library tonight after dinner.**_

The raven haired boy glanced over his shoulder at Cedric, who smiled at him confidently, as if he knew he couldn't be turned down. Then Harry nodded at him, confirming the Hufflepuff's already solid ego. The day couldn't have gone fast enough for Harry.

--

That night after a rushed, bland excuse, Harry hurried from the Great Hall leaving a baffled Ron and Hermione behind.

"It seems to me Harry has a girl," Neville Longbottom commented, biting into an apple in his right hand while his left stroked his pet toad Trevor who sat in his lap.

"That's absurd," both Hermione and Ron spoke in unison. Their eyes met.

"Harry would tell me if he was, you know, seeing anybody," Ron said, though his voice wavered.

"Yes, and well, he's studying more now. He's not the type to say he's going to the library and then run off somewhere else. Eager or not," supported Hermione, pushing asparagus around her plate with a fork.

The two friends continued their supper in a mutual silence, wondering what the truth was with Harry.

Meanwhile, the concern himself was swiftly gliding to the back of enormous library where he and Cederic usually met. He was nearly there when something firm fastened on his arm and he was yanked into the shadows of two towering rows of books. A separate hand clamped over mouth and a heat encased the front of his body. The scent of a delicate detergent and aftershave met Harry's nose. He knew this scent.

Cedric.

Harry was close. Closer than he'd ever been before physically to another person it seemed. Intimately close.

He exhaled the air he'd gasped in upon being grabbed, relaxing slightly into the heat. He could feel one of Cedric's thighs against his own.

"Potter…" the fifth year whispered next to his ear. The Griffindor did his best not to jerk in surprise. Okay, close immediately became an understatement. "You scare rather easy. Your heart is pounding. I'm sorry if I startled you,"

Unable to verbally reply, Harry attempted to nod to show he heard. His forehead bumped into Cedric's broad chest. Both boys froze, unsure what to do. As he stood still on the spot, Harry realized it was dumb to nod in a place too dark to see.

They heard girls' voices and listened to several pairs of feet stride by their hiding spot, coming from the direction Harry had originally been heading. They must have been around the table Harry shared with Cedric usually. The young teen was surprised at the extent Cedric went to avoiding women.

Sweat beaded on Harry's face and his knees felt like they could buckle at any second. The footsteps faded away and silence came in their wake. Cedric still had his hold on the black haired teen and it wasn't until the latter shifted uncomfortably did the older boy realize what he was doing.

"Oh, sorry," Cedric mumbled, letting go hastily.

Harry looked up blindly to where the voice had come from; a half a foot above him.

"It's fine," Harry said back, but Cedric gasped abruptly, his hands latching onto his underclassman's arms. Harry felt the gasp of air pass over his lips and now he knew why Cedric had just spazzed. Just how close were they standing right now? Their lips must be less than two inches apar…

Harry frantically tried to take a step back but tripped on his own robe. With a cry, he was falling backwards and he felt a hand snatch the front of his robe only to haul him back. The force sent him flat against the older teen. It was Harry's turn to gasp in surprise. He could feel Cedric's body heat through the front of his robe and nearly hyperventilating, attempted stepping backwards again anxiously. This time he managed to stumble into the candlelit aisle. Cedric soon followed, face just as flushed and flustered as Harry's.

Harry stared in bewilderment at the stone floor, the heat from before making him dizzy. He braved a glance at Cedric who was in a similar staring contest with the ground.

"Look Harry," he spoke quickly, peering upwards finally. His statement seemed to die on his tongue as hazel met forest green. It seemed he was mentally changing gears in his head.

"Um…I'm sorry you had to see…erm..me and that..girl. I didn't want anybody to see--"

"Then find a room next time!" snapped Harry, interrupting and temper flaring. He didn't understand why the topic of that girl and Cedric made him so upset.

Hazel eyes narrowed angrily at him.

"I was apologizing to show you some respect Potter. It's not like its any of your business anyway," Cedric bit out, his gaze a full on glare. Harry met it with his own fiery emerald orbs. So quickly had the mood shifted between them. The rivet between them was threatening to grow.

"Yeah, it's not my business," Harry confirmed, one hand wrapped around his middle defensively. "Just didn't take you for the type,"

"Type of what?" barked Cedric back. This seemed to be a particularly sensitive subject with him.

"A Casanova who drops tutoring a friend to snog girls!" Harry replied bitterly, not caring if he sounded selfish. He didn't bother to stop his backpack from slipping off his shoulder. It hit the floor with an echoing thud.

Cedric expression danced between the thin border of shocked and appalled. He took a step forward towards Harry, his hazel eyes openly showing hurt.

"That girl had nothing to do with the past two weeks. I would never do something like that. Is that how you see me?" he asked softly, as if he were honestly afraid of getting an answer. Harry looked up to meet the deep hazel gaze and his anger vanished.

"No. That's not how I see you, Cedric Diggory," he said, his voice taking the same velvet complexion he had used two weeks ago, though unintentionally this time.

Cedric took another step towards Harry, as if mesmerized. They were only a foot apart now, their gazes ablaze and locked.

"How do you see me Harry Potter?" he queried, light bangs falling across one of his almond shaped eyes.

Harry, a little intimated by their proximity was prepared to take yet another step backwards but discovered he was trapped against a book shelf. He had been shepherded into a corner. He could find courage to stand up against Voldemort, but not Cedric Diggory? Oh, the irony.

"It shouldn't matter to you," Harry countered, unable to tear his eyes from the hazel ones that were piercing him. It suddenly occurred to him why Cedric had a fan club following him around all the time.

This seemed to throw Cedric for a moment but then his predator-like gaze refocused.

"Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived…there is so much more to you than what's written in the pages of history books. More than what the students see when they look at your scar. More than what the teachers see, more than your friends even. In two weeks, you have proved everything I ever thought I knew about you wrong. In two weeks, I feel more…close to you than I ever have to anyone before. I can honestly be myself and know I can trust you. How is that possible?"

For a moment, Harry was stunned by Cedric's sudden but poetic speech.

"I-I'm not…all…that…great…" Harry mumbled awkwardly, if somewhat lamely, his cheeks burning.

"You're modest and wear your heart on your sleeve. You have done amazing things but you don't show it off. Why? You're life could be so much better,"

Harry realized Cedric was implying popularity and further fame. Something Harry definitely didn't want or need. He told Cedric exactly that:

"That's not what I want or need," he said softly, eyes lowered.

"What do you want then…? What do you need?" asked Cedric gently. "Is it something I could help you achieve?"

The third year hung his head. The hole left by not being raised by loving parents could never be filled or erased. He wanted them. He wanted their tangible forms, their voices, their warmth…

It was a moment before Harry noticed the burn of his eyes. He blinked and a thick drop fell to the stone floor. Pathetic. He was crying, and in front of Cedric Diggory no less. The raven haired youth hoped his friend hadn't seen the tear. His hope was in vain.

"I-I'm sorry…I've overstepped my boundaries," stammered Cedric, apparently shocked.

A low, humorless laugh escaped Harry and he tilted his shimmering gaze up at Cedric with a weak smile.

"Don't you get it yet? You don't seem to have boundaries with me,"

--

At a public conference J. K. Rowling announced that her character Albus Dumbledore was gay. Any of you who haven't heard this ( O.o climb out from under your rock) and google it. You'll be able to read the details and all. Cheers.


	6. Makeshift Manners

Thank you to anyone continuing to read--Jack

: )

CHAPTER 6: Makeshift Manners

It seemed that their dangerous game had not come to an end yet. Both Cedric and Harry played strictly to the unspoken rules, one of which being 'don't bring up what happens in the library'. The two boys sat in Ancient Runes, working diligently on an partner test. They were respectful of each other's space, though Cedric's knee bumped Harry's a few times, earning a locked stare for a couple moments between them.

Half an hour before class ended, Cedric walked to the front of the room and turned in his and Harry's test. Professor Wicket was beyond delighted by their performance.

"Five points to both Hufflepuff and Griffindor houses! And you two may take off early today," he gushed, waving their no doubt, perfect test (thanks mostly to Cedric), around in the air.

Astonished, the third and fifth year boys did just that. Hermione gave Harry a contemptuous look. She had gotten stuck with an uncooperative partner. She and the Slytherin often were caught in whispered arguments during partner tests; they could never agree on an answer. All the other females bristled with envy. Harry couldn't help but feel a little privileged, if not a little smug. Cedric was an awesome guy.

Outside the classroom, Harry and Cedric hesitated, casting a glance each other's way.

"Want…to go for a walk until next period?" asked Cedric slowly, switching his backpack from one shoulder to the other.

"Sure," replied Harry, also shifting his pack a bit.

It was unusual for them to fidget.

Harry walked beside Cedric, although he was technically following him. The Hufflepuff led him out the front doors and onto the grounds. After a minute, Harry realized they were heading for the Quidditch Pitch. What were they going to do there? The Stadium was magnificent as ever, decorated in each of the house colors. Cedric sat down in the Slytherin section, presumably because it was the closest. Harry however, paused and glared at the seating choice.

"It's not the seats' fault they were painted green and silver," joked Cedric lightly, patting the space next to him.

Inwardly pleased by the gesture, Harry deposited his bag and sat down. He was about to ask why they had come out to the pitch when he quickly got his answer.

"I wanted to ask you a couple questions Potter. If you don't mind, that is," stated Cedric, leaning his head back. His hair shone in the morning sunlight wonderfully.

"Erm…go ahead," Harry answered. Interrogations were never good.

"Well…this may seem really impertinent, but how many times have you ..um…fought…You Know Who? I won't tell anybody. It's just that I overheard Hermione Granger talking to you the other day in class, and well, I'm a little confused,"

Cedric seemed slightly bashful, asking this. His awkward expression lightened the mood for Harry a bit.

"I've been up against him twice since my first year. I can't give you a lot a details because Dumbledore asked me not to,"

"But how--You Know Who disappeared after trying to kill you when you were a baby, right? He was destroyed!" came Cedric's hasty retort.

"No, he's finding ways to come back. Voldemort's trying to develop a body for himself and his follower's are beginning to return," said Harry solemnly, meeting Cedric's horrified gaze.

Hazel eyes widened at the use of the Dark Lord's name by Harry, but he did not do the dramatic flinch that so many other witches and wizards were committed to.

"You Know Who…is going to return? How could Dumbledore keep that a secret?" demanded the fifth year, eyes ablaze.

"Who would want to trust that? The headmaster has been saying Voldemort would return for a long time now. There are few people willing to believe him,"

"So what, we wait around and let him come back?" asked the Hufflepuff sharply.

"No, Cedric. Dumbledore is the greatest wizard of our time. You can trust him to do everything in his power to stop Voldemort's return. He has allies of his own,"

Harry wasn't sure what part it was, but something in his statement had calmed Cedric down. The handsome, soon-to-be Prefect folded his hands in his lap and squinted out across the field. His cheeks were blotchy from emotions that had seized him during the conversation but his breathing was smoothing out.

"What was it like? Fighting He Who Must Not Be Named…" he murmured after a couple of minutes, looking at the raven haired third year out from the corner of his eye. Harry held his gaze seriously for a moment, before exhaling slowly.

"It…really can't be described. Fear, intensity, desperation, rage, revulsion. I felt all of that and more. It's complicated I guess…" Harry trailed off quietly. It was just surfacing to him that this was the most he had ever talked with anyone about Voldemort. Not even his best friends or the Headmaster had gotten Harry to spill details like that.

"I see…" whispered Cedric. His hazel eyes lifted towards Harry's green ones. "May I…um…never mind,"

Harry was surprised to hear Cedric cut of his sentence like that. He wasn't one to back off.

"What?" the Griffindor insisted.

"It's just…well…would it be okay if I…saw your scar?" Cedric asked barely above a whisper.

Green eyes flickered apparent shock at the request.

"Sorry, that was rude, I--" Cedric was stopped in mid statement by Harry pushing back his black bangs. The lightening bolt shaped scar could be seen clearly; it was several shades darker than the rest of Harry's skin. Cedric seemed entranced by it. As if he were a puppet suspended by strings, Cedric's hand lifted and his fingers brushed against the scar. The Boy Who Lived swallowed thickly, blood flooding his face. He was used to people wanting to see the scar. He was not used to having people touching it.

For a moment, Cedric didn't seem to notice Harry or even what he was doing. His left forefinger simply continued tracing the scar from top to bottom, then back again. He seemed to be unconsciously moving forward. His leg was pressing up against Harry's through their robes. Then, like a hypnotized patient hearing a snap of fingers, something switched inside of Cedric and he pulled away, looking surprised at his own conduct.

Before the Hufflepuff could stammer out some reason, excuse, or apology, Harry gave him a reassuring smile.

"You don't have boundaries with me. Remember?"

"Are you aware of how…um…that sounds?" Cedric croaked back, face paler than normal, although his cheeks were flushed with a rosy tint.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, not understanding the connotation the older boy was referring to.

"Never mind," mumbled Cedric, head lowered as if to try and hide his reddening cheeks.

--

Hagrid's next Care of Magical Creatures lesson was one Harry would never forget. His half-giant friend had managed to obtain a beast called a Hippogriff. It was an awkward yet regal looking creature, proud and strong. The third year had not expected to be volunteered to approach the monster. He felt very nervous as he bowed deep to the bird-like animal; though his green eyes locked with the foul's golden orbs. After a few angry clicks of its beak, the creature bowed in return.

"Well done, Harry!" Hagrid had praised in his booming voice. Meanwhile, he tossed a dead ferret towards the Hippogriff. "And well done Buckbeak! Well, I think you can ride him now Harry,"

"I can what--?" Harry had squeaked, as Professor Hagrid lifted the raven haired boy up with ease before lowering him behind Buckbeak's wing joints.

"Don't pull out his feathers," added Hagrid with his bushy eyebrows raised. Then he had slapped the Hippogriff's rear end, sending it charging forward and into the air.

Flying on Buckbeak was nothing short of fantastic. It was different than a broom. Harry felt more natural, like wind. When Buckbeak had dipped over the lake, Harry leant over and peered at his rushing reflection. His expression was one of pure exhilaration.

As all things tended to go with Harry, his day was destined to be spoiled. None other than Draco Malfoy had strutted arrogantly up to the Hippogriff once they had landed, instigating a retaliation from the bird. The rest of the school day, the blonde Slytherin could be seen lathering up his injured arm, playing the sympathy cords of other students. Something told Harry this eventually wasn't going to end up well.

--

As weeks past, it turned out Cedric Diggory was full of questions for Harry. It was like some unseen plug had been pulled and a dam of endless curiosity came pouring out. He asked about the Grim and Harry in return had launched into his first sighting of the Grim on Privet Drive, which led to his encounter with the Knight Bus, and further (the big loop-the-loop), to Sirius Black.

The Hufflepuff fifth year was astonished by Harry's colorful, action packed life. In Cederic's words, "Never a dull moment for you, eh Potter?" The Boy Who Lived found himself recalling his life at Privet Drive to Cederic; how his relatives raised him. He described Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and his portly cousin Dudley. Cederic was upset with the lifestyle Harry had lived with and made his dislike of the Dersley family very clear. He was extremely surprised about Harry's ability for wandless magic (inflating his aunt, growing his hair back when forced to cut it, making the glass in the snake exhibit disappear). Beyond that, he was further surprised that Harry had known nothing of the magical world or his fame until a half giant came bursting through the door of Uncle Vernon's decrepit cabin.

All this was learned through note passing in class, tutoring sessions at night, and any free moment the two found themselves together. Ron and Hermione picked up on Harry's blossoming friendship with Cedric Diggory, as did other students. Inevitable rumors about why they were 'suddenly' friends sprang up. Some consisted of Cedric using Harry to gain further popularity, or in another he was using Harry to get close to Hermione Granger. A Slytherin rumor spread that they Cedric was a Harry Potter fan boy. All were utterly ridiculous and ignored by the two boys in question.

Harry began sprouting his own questions for Cedric. What was his childhood like? What was it like growing up with magic? Did you expect to be chosen for Hufflepuff at the Sorting Ceremony?

Later on, as the Christmas holidays approached, Harry's questions developed into more personal ones. Why did Cedric become upset whenever his father was mentioned; what was his favorite thing about living in Hufflepuff House; what did he feel while flying a broomstick; what were his dreams?

Cedric Diggory was cautious about opening up, but after a week of gentle coaxing, he was freely telling Harry anything the third year wanted to know. In his own way, Cedric had dropped a wall between them. He had released one of his own self-erected boundaries and was allowing Harry closer.--

Due to the fact that Harry had blown up his aunt this past summer, Hogsmeade trips were unavailable to him. Uncle Vernon wouldn't have even consider his permission slip if Harry had gotten onto his knees and begged for his signature. So he watched begrudgingly as Hermione and Ron left with the other students, leaving him with nothing but time to kill.

And what better way to kill it than studying in the library? He was turning into a Hermione Granger clone.

Alone in the library, the third year slinked back to his and Cederic's favorite corner table in the back. It always seemed to be dustier than the others, though that added to its character. Harry and Cederic had finished the required dialects of the class book and were now learning from a gigantic text taken off one of the dusty shelves of the library. Harry slid the enormous volume of Ancient Runes off the shelf where he had tucked it previously. He then turned to a chapter on breaking codes.

An hour whisked by without Harry even noticing it. However, when he did realize that time was slipping by another hour later, he smiled appreciatively and pushed the volume back into its designated space. For now, his brain was simply overflowing with information. Needing a break, Harry stood up and stretched. He was still in the mood to read, surprisingly enough, so he began skimming shelves.

He found an encyclopedia series dedicated solely to the magical creatures found in the wizarding world. Thinking of Buckbeack, he pulled the volume that contained 'H' out of the bookcase.

Harry read four pages about Hippogriffs before loosing interest. He slipped the book back into his slot, then his green eyes landed on the volume 'D'. His hand gripped the spine and removed the book. Settling down at a nearby table, Harry searched for Dementor. He located it and invested another half an hour to reading. He was thrilled to hear of the Patronus Charm which could be used to shield oneself against a Dementor attack. Harry made note to learn this spell.

Before he noticed it had happened, time escaped Harry once more. Students had returned to the castle from their trip to Hogsmeade. Everyone seemed elated about their shopping ventures there. Harry decided he should try and find Ron and Hermione.

--

That night, terror swept through Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Sirius Black had broken in somehow, rampaging up to Griffindor tower where he assaulted the Fat Lady guarding the entrance. She was in hysterics once found, and Dumbledore had ordered all the students to gather in the Great Hall while the teachers searched the castle.

Paintings were interrogated and every nook, as well as cranny, was investigated. Or so they thought. Filch stalked around to the known secret passages with his mangy cat only to find them sealed and untouched. Had Filch possessed Fred and George's Marauder's map, he would have discovered different.

"Nothing was tampered with," he had reported proudly.

When Sirius Black broke in, the Dementors had swarmed the castle, something they were strictly instructed against doing. Many teachers, as well as Dumbledore, were outraged. An army of patronus pushed the dark beings back onto the grounds.

"Albus, those hideous, disreputable creatures! They must be removed at once!" cried Professor McGonnagal, petrified for her students' safety.

Dumbledore's mood was rarely dark, but that night was one of the few times it dropped below the usual range. The Ministry had interfered with his school and the Cornelius Fudge had jeopardized the well being of his students by his decision to station Dementors on campus. Dumbledore had been adamantly against it.

"Dementors are creatures who do not take orders or see reason. It is not in their nature to forgive. They will not be able to distinguish between the students and Sirius Black if one of them crosses their path," he had insisted, pale blue eyes still behind his half moon spectacles. His wise statement was completely disregarded. Now look at what had happened.

Down in the Great Hall, Harry, Ron, and Hermione rolled out their provided sleeping bags, shaken by what had happened. All three Griffindors understood the feat it must have been for a singular man to have broken into the castle undetected. Harry was prepared for Hermione to burst into one of her "History of Hogwarts" rants.

Soon after the students began settling in, McGonagall announced lights out in five minutes. Cederic Diggory wandered hesitantly over to the trio, holding his rolled sleeping bag.

"Mind if I join you?"

Harry couldn't pinpoint why he was so joyful that he was on the outside, not in the middle of Ron and Hermione. Though he did have a suspicion why once Cedric laid his sleeping bag next to him.

"Don't you want to be with um…your Hufflepuff friends?" asked Harry quietly. Professors were gliding around swiftly, extinguishing candles.

"No. You're much more interesting," answered Cedric with a crooked grin. Harry suddenly felt very hot in his sleeping bag. They remained silent for a few minutes while Professors patrolled by, checking that students were indeed attempting to sleep. Once they had passed, Harry and Cedric begun a whispered conversation.

"Do you really think he was after you Harry?" was the first thing past Cedric's rosy lips.

"Figure so. He slashed the Fat Lady up really good. Brutally in fact,"

"The Fat who?"

"The Fat Lady. Oh, um, she's a portrait and the way into Griffindor Tower,"

"Huh, I never knew. Ours is a grandfather clock on the sixth floor. You open the front, say the password and step inside. Sort of like Platform 9 and ¾. Just walk right through into the common room,"

"Neat,"

"So do you walk through the Fat Lady like we walk through the clock?"

"Not exactly. She swings open…though she can be ridiculously dramatic. Sometimes she's too busy with herself to open up,"

Cedric twisted his head so he could mute his laugh with his pillow. His face was a faint red when he turned back to face Harry.

"That's a riot. I wonder how the other houses are entered…"

"Well, for Slytherin, a stone wall in the dungeons opens up…like the brick wall in Diagon Alley outside the Leaky Cauldron,"

The fifth year gaped at Harry for a moment before closing his mouth.

"And how do you know that's how the Syltherin House is opened , mischievous Harry Potter? Getting into trouble, are we?"

The raven haired teen grinned ruefully at his friend and shook his head.

"Not this year, but last. I can't tell you a lot, but lets just say, well…I was spying,"

"You are a fountain of never ending surprises,"

"Why thank you. Better keep your eye on me next year, Mr. Prefect,"

"Oh, be certain I will,"

The darkness hid Harry's flushed cheeks and he rolled onto his back, gazing at the starry ceiling. A shooting scar fled across his field of vision.

--

By the time Christmas break rolled around, the Cedric and Harry were nearly inseparable. They hung out in-between classes when they could; Ron, Hermione and Cedric's pack of friends sometimes joining them. After dinner, they would meet in the library to communicate through the current Ancient Runes they were learning.

Harry was becoming quite confident in his reading and writing. Upon noticing this, Cedric suggested that they would get started on their semester project together after break. True to his word, Cedric had been working on it by himself. The Hufflepuff had broken through a portion of the coding, something the Ministry wizards hadn't achieved in a decade.

The raven haired boy forced a smile on his face. A part of him had forgotten that Cedric would be gone during Christmas break. A great loneliness filled his chest cavity. He shouldn't feel lonely. Ron and Hermione were staying behind.

"Oh Harry, I almost forgot. I picked these up for you in Honeydukes. They're peppermint snaps. Hope you like them," the fifth year smiled warmly, sliding a multi-colored plastic bag Harry's way.

The latter was surprised and overwhelmed by the unexpected gift. He stuttered thanks for a few minutes before an embarrassed Cederic told him to calm down. That they were just peppermint snaps.

But it wasn't the peppermint snaps that affected Harry. He didn't even like peppermint that much. It was simply the notion that Cedric Diggory had thought about him enough to buy him a gift. He was happier than he should have been. Harry thanked Cedric and popped a peppermint snap into his mouth, the pleasing crackle and sizzling against his tongue making him smile.

--


	7. Death's Door

Thank you to anyone continuing to read--Jack

: )

CHAPTER 7: Death's Door

It was quite possible that thirteen year old Harry Potter was more nervous now than he was before his first Quidditch game. He fumbled with the clasps of his crimson team uniform. After six frusting minutes, Alicia Spinnet stalked over and buckled them irritably.

"What's wrong with you? Get your head ready for the game!"

She popped him gently upside the head and returned to polishing her broom. Fred and George seized the opportunity to tease Harry about being cheese brained. The third year ignored the twins.

Today was the first Griffindor match versus Hufflepuff. Cedric had been much more laid back about it than he was. Harry Potter however, was sick with worry. He had Griffindor pride and a love of the game that would not allow him to give up a win. Sure, he didn't think Cedric was shallow enough to end their friendship if Griffindor beat Hufflepuff at Quidditch, but he could guarantee that the handsome Hufflepuff would be sour about it for a while. A part of Harry didn't want to send Cedric home for the holidays with a bad memory of him.

Wood was giving them a pep talk. Harry had missed half of it while lost in his own thoughts but caught on to the overall message: Kick some ass.

The team was lining up behind the lion embroidered curtain and a short moment after that, a shrill whistle shrieked. The Griffindor Quiddtich team took off, whipping through their entryway into a stadium seating hundreds of screaming students. For a moment, Harry was lost in the thrill of cheers. He was brought abruptly back to reality when a plump rain drop splashed across his nose. Damn.

The raven haired boy didn't mind rain, as long as he wasn't playing on a broomstick in it. Hermione had been right to charm his glasses with a water repelling spell. Without it, the snitch would have been that much harder to see. Hovering across from him was Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff seeker. His mousy brown hair was already matted to his forehead but the hazel eyes glittered with enthusiasm. It lifted a smile on Harry's face automatically.

The game exploded into action immediately. Bludgers whisked by, giving the seekers a run for their money. Both he and Cedric had some severely close calls. The game had only begun five minutes ago and Harry was already searching frantically for the snitch. He needed to end this quickly. The weather was becoming worse.

Green and hazel eyes locked onto a glint of gold at the same time. They both broke for it, weaving in and out of each other like wind tunnels. Cold rain pelted against the boys' skin, stinging. The snitch ripped a sharp upwards angle, flying high into the storm clouds. The two opposing seekers tore after it. Whether it was an advantage of speed or because of thickness of the clouds, Harry lost Cedric. It was only him approaching the snitch at break neck speed; only his gloved fingers stretched out for the 150 point prize.

The frosty air bit into him angrily and ice crystals formed over his hand, creeping up his skin. Harry saw something dark flick past his peripheral vision and out of sight. The clouds separated a bit below him and Harry looked down at the Stadium. There, he saw a great shaggy black dog off to the side of the pitch. The Grim. The most foreboding omen of the magical world. An incredible feeling of dread over took him. The snitch was gone and replacing it was a ragged, shadowy being. Its rattling, creaking breath was audible to Harry even as the third year spun away and flew from it. Then there was a second, a third, and a fourth Dementors, twisting around him, encircling him like vultures. The air seemed to be sucked from his chest and his eardrums vibrated with the piercing scream of his mother.

--

Harry awoke groggily in an unfamiliar setting. When his vision focused enough past the multiple faces crowding around his bed, he realized he was in the Hospital Wing. Wait, what was he doing there? His hand habitually made a grab for his glasses, which he found folded neatly on the side table near his bed.

Glasses on, Harry finally noticed that the entire Quidditch team was there, dripping in mud caked uniforms. There was a jumble of commotion, as everyone tried to talk to or ask Harry something. Hermione wedged herself between Harry's teammates, along with Ron.

"Are you alright?" she gasped, face a ghostly white.

"I'm…fine. Why am I here?" Harry asked, glancing around. Harry then turned to Wood quickly. "The game! How'd it go?"

"Oh. Uh, well, Harry…you see…"

The stammering did not bode well for Harry. Fred and George interrupted their captain's mumbling.

"What he's trying to say is that it's not your fault you fell over hundred feet from your broom Harry," piped George.

"We'll leave it to our dear brother to explain further," added Fred, shrugging towards Ron.

That seemed to be the Griffindor team's queue to leave. They shuffled out of the Hospital Wing, a blustering Madam Promfrey in their wake. Her wand pillaged the air, banishing the mud and water from her normally spotless floors.

"What happened Ron?" muttered Harry darkly. He could guess the answer.

"Cedric Diggory caught the snitch…" whispered Hermione, sparing the redhead.

Harry's stomach sunk with disappointment. Then…

"That's not all mate…" frowned Ron apologetically. He held out a lumpy blanket towards Harry, who eyed it suspiciously.

Hermione's nimble fingers lifted off the first layer of the blanket, revealing splintered and mangled wood.

"When you fell off your broom Harry, um, the wind carried it straight into the Whomping Willow. She didn't stand a chance. I'm really sorry," choked Ron, truly looking miserable.

Harry numbly took the remains of his beloved broomstick from Ron. He held them to his chest and stared blankly in front of himself for a minute or two. He seemed to take Hermione and Ron off guard by speaking.

"The Dementors were above the pitch. I saw them before I blacked out," he said crisply.

"Oh yes," replied Hermione, nodding her bushy head. "Dumbledore has set off to the Ministry to have them banished. He feels the students are safer up against Black than they are against those creatures. It was Dumbledore Harry, who saved you. You just came dropping down from the sky and he performed some kind levitation charm. In the knick of time I might add,"

The brunette was talking a mile a minute, a habit Harry understood activated when she was nervous.

"I'd like to be alone for a while please," the defeated Griffindor seeker spoke quietly.

"We'll come back and check up on you tomorrow Harry," said Ron gently. Harry nodded bleakly back.

Despite his best efforts, Harry's eyes burned when he gazed down at the wreckage that was his broomstick. It was like an old friend to him; the guide that led him into the Quidditch World…

Now he didn't even have a broomstick to play on. He certainly couldn't borrow the school ones. They were much to slow and clumsy for him to pull seeker stunts on.

--

A soft, rhythmic tap of shoes on stone pulled Harry from his light doze. He turned his head to gaze sleepily at a somber Cedric Diggory walking steadily his way. Without a word, Cedric slid out a spare chair next to Harry's bed before sitting in it and folded his hands upon the sheets. His hazel eyes were flat and guarded; as if encased in glass. His overall expression was both dreary and desperate all at once.

"Y…you alright…?" were the first words Cedric managed. He wasn't even looking at Harry, but stared across the bed at wall on the other side of the infirmary."Yeah, I'm fine," answered Harry. He didn't expect the Hufflepuff to take the victory so poorly. He knew Hufflepuffs were humble, but damn…

Cedric cast a cautious, jerky glance Harry's way. His normally warm hazel eyes were outlined in a puffy redness that was unsuited for a face so attractive as his. Cedric's complexion was also a sickly green color, like he had been quite ill recently and was just now recovering.

Silent again, the brown haired boy lowered his head into his arms on the bed. He buried his face there for several long minutes. Harry, concerned, was more than patient. Occasionally, the Boy Who Lived would hear a whispered word come drifting across the space between him and Cedric. The Hufflepuff was praying. Intensely at that.

It had never struck him that Cedric was religious but on the other hand, it didn't necessarily shock Harry either. Cedric was known simply by reputation that he was from an old-fashioned and traditional family; conservative, wealthy, well known, and popular. Harry could add Christian to that list, if that was indeed Cedric's denomination. Growing tired of the hissed prayers--whatever the older teen was doing--Harry reached out and rested his hand softly on Cedric's back to gain his attention. The Hufflepuff jumped as if a firework had been set off behind him.

"What's wrong…?" asked Harry seriously, locking his gaze with Cedric's. Momentarily, the sea glass glaze lifted and a burning fire could be seen smoldering behind sparkling hazel eyes. Harry froze like a mouse caught in a serpent's sight. The predatory gaze.

Cedric's hands lifted slowly, so slowly, and ran themselves into Harry's unruly mop of jet black hair.

"I thought…you had died. I thought…I saw you die today,"

Harry saw a wave of misery wash over Cedric Diggory's face. His long fingers trembled inside of ebony locks.

"I didn't know what it would feel like…to lose someone close. Not until today. Harry…I….couldn't move. I had just caught the snitch when I saw your body falling through the air. Even though I saw it….I couldn't…move. Couldn't help you. I couldn't even help my friend! What good am I? A head boy? A prefect! A Hufflepuff! I was useless! I watched you die and did nothing! I'm a shame to my family name! To all the morals I stand for! God, I'm…"

Emerald eyes grew very wide as Cedric cracked into an aching rant, emotions flooding out invisibly through his finger tips and into Harry's hair, making his scalp tingle. At some point during the gushing confession, Harry's still gloved and dirty fingers found themselves gripping at the sides of Cedric's mustard colored Quidditch robes. They had pulled each other close, Cedric's fingers tugging at Harry's locks and due to the latter's grip on his robes, had come to lean heavily over the bed; one of his muddy knees was up on the mattress.

Harry and Cedric's breathing was rapid and uneven, neither allowing for their sweeping eye contact to be broken. Harry could feel Cederic shaking; the vibrations coming from his torso beneath the robes and from his leg on the bed.

"Cedric, you did nothing wrong. I'm here, alive and all. Don't beat yourself up for this," urged Harry, his green eyes deepening as he implored hazel ones.

It happened in a split second. Full lips were down on his, pressing on his mouth, warm and needy. Although bewildered, Harry's own lips relaxed naturally and allowed Cedric's to move them as he pleased. It altered between desperate, flighty butterfly pecks to urgent brushing and crooning. Harry was dizzy, drunk in his senses. He could smell Cedric's aftershave mixed in with the scent of soil and sweat around them. A small noise flitted past his lips involuntarily.

The quiet moan seemed to bring Cedric Diggory back to reality in an instant. He pulled away quickly, face petrified. Due to Cedric's panicked expression, Harry feared the worst and his own facial features mirrored the negativity blossoming in the atmosphere between them.

"I…shouldn't have done that. I don't know why I did that. Har…Potter, it was just…we got caught up in the moment. Neither of us are poofs or anything so…right. I have to go,"

After his mangled speech, the fifth year sped from the room, abandoning Harry in a worst position than when he first arrived at the hospital wing. The raven haired boy's body still buzzed all over from the heated touches he'd just received. His fingers raised and ran over his dampened lips. Why had Cedric….?

Harry's hand dropped and he felt very lost, recalling his friend's horrified expression. Had he done something wrong? Something revolting? Or was the only thing revolting about the situation is that they had done something gay together? Poof, as Cedric called it. Or worse…was it just a 'caught in the moment' situation? Because if it was…then Harry could only conclude what had just transpired as a pity kiss. You lost the game, you broke your broom, made an ass of your self…here, have a kiss. Harry Potter's first kiss, a pity kiss.

Merry Christmas.

Here's your early holiday mistletoe.


	8. Horrific Holidays and Happenchance

Thank you to anyone continuing to read--Jack

Readers!

There is going to be British slang dropped throughout 'Decoding You' from this point on. The definitions can be found at the bottom of each chapter, if you should not know what they mean. Many should be easy to figure out though.

Chapter 8: Horrific Holidays and Happen-chance

It was the last thing Harry had expected when going to Hogsmeade the day before Christmas Break. Everything had been going great. Fred and George blessed him with the wonderful Marauder's Map; he was managing to not think about what had happened in the Hospital Wing with Cedric; he had scared the pants off of Malfoy and his two ape-like friends; and he also snuck a Butterbeer beneath his invisibility cloak successfully. But it was after all of that, did Harry spot Professor McGonagall, Severus Snape, and Albus Dumbledore walking discreetly towards a shadowy staircase at the back of the room. He hadn't expected to see them there at all. Through all the chaos of the bar, he did manage to hear one name flit through the air from McGonagall's tight lips.

Sirius Black.

Standing quickly, Harry made after them. Hermione hissed his name in panic as he left, but the Boy Who Lived played deaf, following his Professors up the stairway.

"It would trouble the boy to know. He musn't find out," urged McGonagall, some of her normally immaculate hair escaping her bun as she paced the room.

"I should think that the boy would like to know who is responsible for his parents's death," Snape drawled while leaning against the furthest wall from Harry's form.

"It does him no good to hear that Black—his parent's secret keeper—went to He Who Must Not Be Named and betrayed their trust. Imagine how he'd react to that! Or better yet, if he knew that Sirius Black is his _godfather_!

The world went silent for Harry Potter at that point and as he sat on a snowy log at the edge of the forest bordering Hogsmeade, he couldn't stop the tears of rage from overflowing. His _godfather_, his parent's most trusted friend, was the cause of their murder. His parent's were dead because of _Sirius Black_. Voldemort would have never been able to kill them if their _friend_ hadn't ratted them out. The sick bastard!

He was choking back his sobs by the time Hermione and Ron found him. It was beyond rough to explain to them how he was feeling. It was beyond difficult to communicate his hatred and fury.

"I hope Black comes and finds me! Because when he does, I'm going to kill him!"

--

It was not unusual for Harry to be miserable during the holidays. Years spent living through Christmas with the Dersleys had done that. It wasn't until he had come to Hogwarts did Harry come to enjoy it. However, as he stood at the leaded glass window of his dormitory, emerald eyes taking in the snowflakes collecting on the outside panel, a sigh escaped him.

After he had eavesdropped on his Professors and discovered that the murderous Sirius Black was his godfather, well, he hadn't been the most pleasant person to be around. Harry was remaining at school for the holidays. First off, there was no way in hell he wanted to return to Privet Drive for Christmas. Ron had suggested spending their vacation at the Burrow, but Molly Weasley reluctantly said no. She believed it was safer for Harry to remain at Hogwarts, under the watchful protection of Albus Dumbledore. Sirius Black was still at large, after all. So Harry's best friends decided to stay at Hogwarts with him, for which the raven haired boy was inwardly grateful. His mood would have been even lower if he didn't have Ron and Hermione to help distract him.

An awful yowling erupted and Harry turned in time to see chubby Crookshanks tearing after Ron's pet rat, Scabbers. The orange mass of fur flung itself under Seamus' bed causing several terrified shrieks to sound out. Harry recoiled as a gray streak flew past him, scuttling along the floor and under Dean's bed across the room. Crookshanks was hot in pursuit.

"Bloody beast!" screeched Ron, nearly as shrill as his pet rat. He had come dashing up the stairs and was currently trying to catch Hermione's cat.

"Ronald! Don't hurt Crookshanks!" ordered Hermione shrilly, tearing up the stairs after him. Her small hands fisted the back of Ron's threadbare robes and attempted to pull him away from Dean's bed. Harry watched the exchange mutedly, half his mind wondering if they would get in trouble for having Hermione up in their _all boys_ dorm. The other half persistently thought of that night in the Hospital Wing and those urgent lips on his. It was nicer to stress over that…kiss…than it was over the killer that was after him. Unconsciously, Harry brought his hand up to brush over his mouth. It had become a consistent habit since Cedric had—

"Harry! Don't just stand there! Grab Crookshanks!" Hermione barked, face flushed with anger and the effort of holding back Ron. The boy addressed pulled his hand away from his mouth at lightening speed, feeling as though he got caught doing something naughty. Before lingering on that thought, however, Harry went across the room and picked up Hermione's hissing cat. It effectively dug each set of claws into his flesh through the robe he wore. Restraining the urge to wince, Harry stepped back as Ron lunged forward and scooped up a terrified Scabbers who trembled in his hands. A few clumps of fur fell out the rodent and drifted slowly to the floor. Three sets of eyes followed the fur's decent in silence. Then Ron snapped,

"He's losing his bloody fur Hermione! You—You keep that animal away from Scabbers, damn it,"

Ron's freckled, large hands persistently stroked Scabbers, trying to calm the poor creature down. Harry noticed some more strands of hair come out as Ron pet him. He was distracted from commenting because Hermione briskly came over, bushy hair bouncing. She pulled Crookshanks from Harry's arms and held him tight to her bosom, like an overprotective mother. Then she stomped out of the dorm, but not before spitting at Ron,

"Its just his instinct to hunt Ronald!"

--

It was two nights before Christmas and Harry sat in the Common Room, half-heartedly playing his sixth game of Wizard's Chess with Ron. The redhead had been avoiding Hermione since their fight and had come to Harry to fill in all the empty time created. Harry was sick of playing Chess. He gazed with an obviously bored expression as Ron's knight decapitated his queen. Then Harry's remaining pawns began to riot on the board after seeing their queen fall. They had no interest in following Harry's amateurish orders.

Hermione appeared, coming through the portrait. She glanced at Harry with a somewhat lonely look, before climbing the staircase to the girl's dorm. Harry ordered his King to resign and Ron seemed thoroughly disappointed he didn't get to serve Harry his arse on a silver platter anymore.

"Ron needs to figure out a better way to handle his stress," thought Harry bitterly, heading for the backside of the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Where are you going?" asked Ron, standing up and intending to follow Harry out.

"I need to be alone for a while. Make up with Hermione while I'm gone, why don't you."

Ron sputtered idiotically as his friend left the common room and the portrait swung firmly back into place. Harry could usually handle it when Ron and Hermione got into their tiffs, but right now he couldn't find the patience. His mind was heavy and his heart was anxious. As he walked through the halls of Hogwarts, even the gaze of the multiple portraits got to him. Head down, he strode fast without any destination in mind.

The thirteen year old wasn't sure how to take the fact that his feet had carried him to the Library entrance. He rested his hand on one of the great pillars of the entryway and took in a few steadying breaths. Harry had never expected some of his most treasured memories to be rooted in there. He had never expected to grow close to a Hufflepuff boy two years his senior. Of course, nothing really ever went as he planned. Everything about his life was fairly unpredictable. Or as Trelawney put it, "Most unfortunate!" Cedric had said on more than one occasion, "Never a dull moment for you, eh Potter?"

Shit. Harry cursed inside his mind and glared at the base of the pillar. The goal of his walk was to NOT think. Not about Black. And not about Cedr—the "C" word. Harry huffed and spun on his heel. His footsteps echoed loudly in the empty hallways as he returned grudgingly to Griffindor Tower feeling his walk was fruitless. Inside the Common Room, Ron and Hermione were sitting side by side on the couch, smiling and talking lightly with each other. Harry didn't know if he should feel grateful or flat out exasperated.

--

If he expected Cedric Diggory to pointedly ignore him upon the end of Christmas break, Harry Potter was extremely mistaken. The morning everyone returned to Hogwarts, Harry sat stupefied as a regal black owl swooped down and perched on the fruit basket in front of him. Harry tried not to seem nervous as he fumbled with the string attaching parchment to the bird's outstretched leg. Managing to get it off after a painstakingly long minute, the impatient owl took off after a few sharp clicks of his beak.

Harry unfurled the paper and saw the familiar alphabetic runes scrawled there in red ink. His stomach did a couple uncomfortable flips.

'Meet me in the hallway under the Astronomy tower at midnight tonight. We need to talk'

The third year peered over his shoulder at the Hufflepuff table for some kind of sign of what type of 'talk' was going to occur at midnight. Cedric wasn't looking at him but was animatedly involved in a conversation with his surrounding friends. Folding up the paper, Harry tucked it inside his bag. He had quite the collections of notes, letters, and doodles from the Hufflepuff boy in there. He closed the flap hastily so no one would see and ask what the mess was.

The day waltzed by utterly slowly. The heavens had blessed Harry, considering the boy didn't have Ancient Runes class today, but Hell had sent him a telegram in the form of that secret meeting with Cedric tonight. Harry didn't tell Hermione or Ron about his plans for that evening. He didn't need to raise suspicions or have them asking him things he didn't want to answer. Like, "What do you think Cedric is going to talk to you about?"

--

At 11: 55 p.m., creeping up the many floors to the Astronomy Tower, Harry felt unusually hot underneath the invisibility cloak. Upon reaching the designated hallway, Harry's stomach dropped low when he couldn't see Cedric waiting for him. Had it been a joke? Did Cedric just set him up? The teen shook his head aggressively. He knew Cedric wasn't that kind of guy. Was he?

Then soft taps of footsteps echoed behind him and Harry watched a cautious Cedric Diggory approach, his lighted wand tip bright. His lips sported a rather defined frown and his hazel eyes swept over the hallway agitatedly. There was a light sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Cedric…" Harry murmured, taking a small step towards the older teen.

"H-Harry…?" hissed the Hufflepuff, his head turning this way and that, searching for the voice that had called out to him. It was then that Harry realized he was still wearing his father's cloak. Feeling like an idiot, Harry slipped it off, materializing in front of his Ancient Runes partner. He found Cedric's wand aimed directly at his chest in a blunt, aggressive manner.

"Bloody Hell Harry, don't just pop out of the dark like that," the handsome boy bristled, dropping his arm back at his side. "You startled me!"

"Sorry," mumbled Harry, shifting the bag with his invisibility cloak inside it.

An awkward, pregnant pause filled the space between them. The taller between them cleared his throat uncomfortably and walked past Harry in the direction of the stairs.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to go up on the roof," he said as he mounted the first step. Harry shook his head and quietly followed. Up on the roof of the Astronomy Tower, the fresh air helped release a lot of the tension between them. Thinking that he might actually be able to handle this talk, now that he was in a more comfortable setting, Harry broached,

"So…the letter you sent me at breakfast…"

Cedric Diggory visibly stiffened next to him. He was staring up at the multitudes of stars and if Harry had been taller, he was sure he could have probably seen the night sky reflected in his hazel eyes. Then Cedric asked if Harry would like to sit, which the latter complied to. The roof was cold even against his jean-encased backside and Harry felt a tingle of numbness settle over his skin. His senses were suddenly heightened as Cedric sat to his immediate left. He didn't leave more than three or four inches between himself and Harry. Why was he sitting so close? Was it for warmth against the winter wind?

What shocked Harry even more was where Cedric's hand was. Harry had placed his on the freezing ground between them, to assist in holding himself up. Cedric had done the same, but now their fingers were touching. Just the pinkies, barely brushing. The minimal contact set a fire ablaze in the pit of Harry's stomach and left him reeling. It felt as if hundreds of bouncing cotton balls had found a way into his gut, spinning, churning, and jumping about like crazy. His face burned. But he made no attempt to move his hand. And to his immense satisfaction, neither did Cedric.

"I…I'm not gay,"

That was the first statement out of Cedric's mouth. Harry gawked at him. What was he supposed to say to that? Oh swell, because I think I might be? Harry released a snort at that thought. Cedric cringed slightly at the noise.

"I…I know what I—we did—probably isn't helping you to believe me when I say that I'm straight. Potter, I…I've been with lots of girls. Full Monty. I love it. I don't know why I did that in the Hospital Wing. It—just happened, all right? And I wanted to apologize for doing it," mumbled Cedric, embarrassment plain on his features.

Harry's insides felt cold after hearing that. He didn't come up to the roof expecting a grand confession or anything from Cedric, but a piece of him had hoped that his Ancient Runes partner wouldn't cough it up to just an 'it happened'. It felt like more was there, somehow. But Harry inhaled deeply through his nose, chilly air biting at his lungs, and calmed his inner turmoil.

"It's fine Ce—Diggory," Harry muttered back, pulling his hands into his lap. It felt weird to call Cedric by his surname.

Harry felt hazel eyes gazing intently at him and he stubbornly refused to meet the stare. His own eyes were burning it bit. He told himself it was just the icy temperatures causing it. Inside, he was searching for the relief he expected would come once he and Cedric had settled things. He could find none.

"If that's all, I'm in need of a good zeds," sighed Harry, standing up. He shivered as the January air kissed his bare arms.

"Right. You're not angry with me, are you? About…_that_."

This question forced Harry to pause on his shuffle to the Astronomy door that would lead him back into the warm castle. Did he have an honest answer for that? Not at the top of his head, no. Harry had this terrible feeling that his friendship with Cedric Diggory had gone tits up however. It bothered him more than he wanted it to. But right now, everything was getting under his skin. So he replied the first thing that came to mind,

"No. You don't have boundaries with me…remember?"

--

The clock in Ancient Runes ticked by excruciatingly slow. Sitting by Cedric the next day introduced Harry to a whole new level of discomfort he didn't know existed. It was as if time had been thrown into reverse and suddenly he was back in the previous semester when Cedric ignored him for two weeks, all Twilight Zone style. Harry sat idly, not even taking notes. He would have to borrow Hermione's later. Focusing on schoolwork wasn't an option for Harry today.

Just then, the door to the classroom opened and a pretty blonde girl wearing Ravenclaw robes glided in. Harry's meadow green eyes expanded as he recognized her to be the one Cedric snogged after Harry's first Quidditch practice. She leaned in close to Professor Wicket's ear and said something inaudible. Next to him, Cedric was packing his bags.

"Very good. Yes, I understand. Mr. Diggory—" nodded the Runes Professor, blue eyes fixated on the handsome Hufflepuff at Harry's side. Cedric swung his backpack onto one shoulder and followed the girl out of the room without a word.

Bitterness coiled around Harry's stomach when the Ravenclaw graced Cedric with a melting smile as they left. He wondered if this could be labeled as jealousy. He had never experienced it before. Why did it bother creeping up on him now?

"Ah. Prefect Orientations already. Good gracious, this brings back memories," cooed Professor Wicket, plopping back into his desk chair.

The room burst into murmurs of excited conversation. Harry's brows unconsciously furrowed together. It seemed that girl was going to be a Prefect along with Cedric next year, prowling the dark Hogwart's halls at night with him.

And Harry didn't like it one bit.

--

zeds—slang for sleep

tits up—slang for "gone all wrong"

Full Monty--slang for "all the way; complete". I use it in the sexual sense in this chapter, meaning Cedric's no virgin. Sorry everyone! Don't kill me.

Also, this chapter was what I like to refer to as a "necessary" chapter. It's development and its needed.

Next Chapter: "Deluge of Desires"


	9. Deluge of Desires

Thank you to anyone continuing to read--Jack

Chapter 9: Deluge of Desires

They were in the library together, working diligently on their Ancient Runes project. Cedric was absorbed in the papers the Ministry had provided them with, brows creased together in concentration. Harry was doing his part by using the system Cedric finished developing over Christmas Break to crack a portion of the document in front of him. It was rather interesting, considering the information thus far was like a diary. The guy who wrote it talked of his days at school (the specific name not mentioned) and his time spent learning the magical arts. He had a great sense of humor too. Harry couldn't help but wonder why the Ministry kept seemingly useless papers like this for so long.

Cedric cursed softly, indicating he was stuck on something particularly difficult. His knee brushed up against Harry's underneath the table, causing the third year to bite his lip. His stomach was in flurries again; something Cedric possessed a knack for doing unintentionally. He attempted to shift away but the movement only pressed their legs closer together. Heated hazel eyes lifted from the document they had been previously glaring at to gaze at Harry. The third year avoided the eye contact. He didn't know what he'd find in Cedric's eyes if he looked into them.

"No. That character is wrong," Cedric said softly an hour later, pointing to Harry's scrawled translation.

Disappointed in himself, Harry's patience splintered and he scribbled all over the translation before throwing down his quill. He wasn't nearly as good at this as Cedric was. And he felt stupid trying so hard and failing in front of the brilliant Hufflepuff. He was growing rather pessimistic, a quality he didn't find redeeming about himself at all.

"I just meant one character Potter. Not the whole damn thing," sighed Cedric, picking up Harry's mangled paper and trying to make out the translation beneath the splotches of angry ink. "Why'd you have to go and do that?"

"I'm frustrated," muttered Harry shortly. 'And a little immature right now' his mind added.

Another heavy sigh fell past those formidable sandstone lips and Cedric dropped Harry's paper back onto the table in resignation. They needed to speed up the progress if they were going to make the end of semester deadline. There were hundreds of pages to translate and the pace was rather sluggish.

"If I give you a few days to collect your thoughts, will you be able to be a responsible partner and get your share of the work done?" Cedric asked sharply, though his face looked very tired. There were even light bags under his eyes, emphasized by the candlelight.

Harry's stomach churned, upset.

"Yes."

Then Harry got up, grabbed his bag and left. Striding out of the library, he fingered his lips, something he had been doing constantly since that rainy night.

--

Professor Wicket held them both back the following day after class, praising them immensely for their perfect Ancient Runes partner test. He commented on how he was sure to be amazed by their project and that they must enjoy working together. Cedric wobbled at his seat and Harry flushed at their Professor's statement. The body language went unnoticed and Wicket left, his stubby body bounding surprisingly agile, out of the chamber. Cedric and Harry sat in a stony silence for a moment, neither moving to pack up. As if a light was switched off, both boys began cleaning up at the same time.

They didn't talk and the air in the room quickly became stale. The atmosphere between the two of them was charged with apprehension. Harry tried to sneak a glance at his Runes partner only to already find Cedric's light eyes on him. The older teen twitched up a strained smile and resumed putting away his supplies. Harry was done and he shouldered his bag. As he made to leave, his hasty foot hooked under the bar of the stool he sat at and suddenly, the whole world was lurching forward.

Time stopped as strong arms flew around him. Like the time before in the library, Harry found himself pulled against his upperclassman except this time his back was to Cedric's chest. And his arse was up against the other's groin. Both boys' breaths hitched in their throats.

Harry's bag had fallen off his shoulder as he tripped and hit the floor with a sounding crash. From the sound, he could tell he at least cracked his ink bottles, if not shattering them completely. But it wasn't this that filled Harry with dismay. It was all the numerous letters, notes, and doodles that had spilled from the inside of his satchel. They blanketed the stone floor in a small circumference; a collage of stick figures and dirty jokes. All of his and Cedric's conversations.

Harry tore away from the Hufflepuff boy and frantically attempted to sweep the majority of the papers back into his bag. He was embarrassed. He felt exposed. He felt--scared. He didn't want Cedric to know that he had kept them. He didn't want Cedric to see any of that.

His hands were shaking considerably as he gathered up the last few notes and shoved them viciously into his backpack. Cedric stooped near him and held out a doodle Harry missed. His eyes were deep pools of questions and something else foreign to the younger teen. Harry reached out and attempted to take the paper offered to him. Cedric then promptly dropped the note and grabbed Harry's slender wrist instead, yanking him forward. His large hands fisted the front of the third years robes and brought their faces inches from each other. Harry's breathing was shallow and quick; his wide green eyes were luminescent.

"Why…did you keep those…?" asked Cedric. His voice had a deeper timbre to it than normal, laced with an odd huskiness Harry had never heard.

"I…I don't know," answered Harry pathetically. His whole form was shaking now and due to their proximity, his body was beginning to remember the evening in the Hospital Wing nearly three weeks ago. It was as if he was vibrating under some unseen force.

Cedric's gaze raked over Harry's flustered features, pausing none-too-subtly on the raven boy's lips. A lock of his golden brown hair fell across one eye, giving him another layer of unnecessary allure. His eyes were beginning to close; his head was beginning to tilt, and all Harry could think was, "No way…"

That one night in the Hospital Wing between them had been an explosion, which had been doused with icy reality and fear. Today, alone and in broad daylight of the Ancient Runes classroom, their lips met in a different fashion. There was an innocent hesitancy and an awareness of touch, taste, and sound that there hadn't been time for before. Cedric's vice grip on Harry's robes loosened and a single hand wound itself at the base of the third year's neck. He used this leverage to pull Harry even closer and put him at an angle.

Harry didn't know how to kiss Cedric back. It took a few seconds for the shock wear off and once it did, Harry awkwardly mimicked Cedric's movements with his own lips. It was probably obvious that he had never kissed anyone. Harry briefly wondered if Cedric was going to pull away in disgust again, like he had that one night. His question was answered abruptly. Cedric's free hand traveled over the front of Harry's robes before pausing at the clasp. With a snap, he unhooked it. Harry's school robe opened and slid off one of his shoulders with a soft whoosh. The action forced a gasp past the third year's lips.

Even though Harry wore typical Muggle clothing beneath his school uniform, there was something very sensuous about his robe slipping off. He couldn't suppress the shudder that rose from him. This all seemed…very adult. The gentle pressing of Cedric's lips on his own, the hand that now cupped his waist, the breath he could feel on his cheek… It was all too real and sudden. Harry pushed Cedric gruffly away and then fell back onto the cold floor. He was panting and no doubt blushing. His robes had come off further and his baggy T-shirt had ridden up his abdomen somewhat. Cedric was staring at him with a funny expression, as if he couldn't decide what emotion should be controlling his facial features.

"What…is your problem?" gasped Harry, sitting up and pulling his robe shut, although there was nothing to conceal. He must have looked like an indignant housewife, sprawled there on the ground.

Cedric didn't seem to be able to supply a response. He opened his mouth a few times but shut it seconds later. Harry could tell the gears of his mind were cranking away, searching for the right words to say. But Harry didn't want the 'right words' and he didn't want lies. He wanted the truth. Cedric's hand shakily swept through his hair and his hazel eyes looked about the room anxiously.

"You told me you weren't gay," Harry offered angrily, beginning to stand.

Cedric recognized the posture as offensive and stood himself. He could tell he was losing ground.

"I..I'm not—" the older teen started but Harry cut him off sharply.

"Oh, you're not a homo? Bunking a couple girls proves it, I'm sure. Well if you aren't queer Cedric, you're going the wrong way about it, because you just kissed another bloke! I'm done with you pulling this cra—"

Cedric charged forward and Harry was slammed down onto the nearest worktable. Their lower halves were flush against each other, creating a friction Harry was trying not to respond to. His wrists were pinned forcibly on either side of his head and the attractive Hufflepuff loomed aggressively over him. The third year grunted and struggled at the hold. Cedric's eyes pierced his.

"Do you know what would happen if my Dad found out I was a Shirtlifter, Potter? It'd be worse than your days at the Dursleys. And I'm not some poof. I dig birds like any normal mate. Its just…you. You're different and I can't stand it. You feel it too right? Like some invisible fire is burning underneath our skin? At night in the library, no matter how hard I try, I keep looking at you. I think…thoughts I shouldn't! I hate that you seem to have control over me! And that I care so much about what you're feeling! I wonder about what you're doing or if you're thinking about me the same way I'm thinking about you. I've never looked in the direction of a man before you. Now tell me why. Why can't I look away from you?"

Lips crashed against Harry's once more, reminiscent of their first kiss. The desperation was thick in the atmosphere coating them. When Cedric's hips rolled down onto his, there was no stopping the guttural moan that the Griffindor released. His body pressed up instinctively against Cedric, craving the heat it provided. And the dominant boy responded verbally with his own throaty gasp.

The school bell rang out harshly and effectively froze the two boys clutching each other on top of the work desk. Both pairs of eyes jerked towards the doorway, panic sprouting inside them as they suddenly became re-aware of where they were. Cedric slowly peeled away from his underclassman, face damp and cheeks pink.

There was a tense pause and then:

"Cedric…I……I…" Harry stammered, lifting himself up. His heart was telling him to confess. To tell Cedric about the butterflies that nested in his stomach anytime the other boy was around. To tell him how jealous he was of that Ravenclaw girl. To tell him…he had feelings for him. His courage was hard to conjure up right now for some reason.

However, Cedric pressed a comforting finger against Harry's slightly swollen lips. Then he met the worried green gaze seriously. It was as if the Hufflepuff had suddenly leaped over a great internal hurdle as he bent over to kiss Harry lightly on his forehead next to his scar. Harry whispered hoarsely,

"I…can't take my eyes off you either. And…I don't want to,"

It was the closest statement to a confession he could muster up right now. His body pulsed with leftover heat and he was quite lightheaded. Beyond that, he feared rejection.

"When we meet for our project tonight…we'll talk. I think we should clear our heads first," said Cedric maturely, pulling away from Harry to pick up the backpack that had started it all. Silently, he handed it over to the third year.

After Harry had nodded in affirmation, Cedric grabbed his own bag and left the room. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice nagged Harry that he would lose some epic amount of house points for being so late to his next class. But his racing heart thoroughly couldn't complain.

--

He wasn't sure if the day sped or crawled by. For the moment, time seemed to have lost its definition for Harry Potter. The boy went through the remainder of his daily motions in a daze, mind securely locked on the fact he had snogged Cedric Diggory. Or rather, Cedric Diggory had snogged him. It crossed his mind briefly that he may have fallen asleep in Ancient Runes and dreamed it all up. He knew that wasn't what happened though.

At dinner, Ron stared unabashedly at his friend until Harry finally noticed. The redhead glanced down at his shabby watch.

"Only took you twenty-two minutes to realize I've been staring at you," muttered Ron, waving a large hand in front of Harry's surprised face. "What's with you? You've been a space-case all day."

Harry spooned up some mashed potatoes and wondered if he would ever tell Ron or Hermione about his…relationship (or whatever it was) to Cedric. Shoving the mush into his mouth, Harry's mind supplied a solemn, "No, probably not."

To Ron, Harry merely shrugged. The youngest Weasley boy frowned at his friend. He wasn't that dense. He figured Harry was hiding something. He figured it was his duty as Harry's closest mate to help him out. But how was he supposed to do that if Harry wasn't willing to trust him?

"Hey…Hagrid's missing you two," Hermione said quite suddenly.

"Where'd you come from?" Ron choked over his hamburger.

"I've been here the whole time. Seriously, you need to be more observant!" scolded Hermione before turning her attention to the Head Table. As she stated, Hagrid was absent.

Where had he gone?

--

The dusty bookshelves and aisles leading back to the corner where he and Cedric conducted their tutoring and homework sessions had never been more intimidating. The candlelight cast heavy shadows over the third year as if trying to persuade him to walk in the other direction. It didn't help that it only seemed to become darker the closer Harry got to their secluded table.

Their table was unoccupied, the candles unlit. That explained the darkness. It was unusual for Cedric to be late. Harry dropped his backpack carelessly beside his chair and pulled out his wand to light the candles. He got four out of the five burning when out from the shadowy bookshelves emerged Cedric Diggory. Harry didn't hear him approach and as he uttered the charm to spit fire onto the last wick, the Hufflepuff laid a kind hand on his shoulder. The Boy Who Lived aim shifted in his surprise and the spell hit part of his hand.

A cry of pain erupted from him and he crouched over, cradling his hand. Cedric shouted something mixed between and curse and an apology. Then his cool hands enclosed over Harry's injured one; hazel eyes echoed with guilt and regret. It had been an accident but he should have warned Harry better of his approach.

Gentle lips lowered and brushed over the scalded skin. A feeling separate from the pain shuddered inside of Harry. His free arm draped over the back of Cedric's neck and he held him close.

"I-I'm really sorry. We should get some ointment from Madam Pomfrey right away," said Cedric in a low voice.

"No. That can wait," whispered Harry, gathering his courage and then pressing his nose softly into the curve of Cedric's cheek. The older boy seemed to be reveling in the chaste embrace. His breath became slightly uneven.

"You want to talk even though your hand looks like it got a taste of a Blast Ended Skrewt?" the older teen asked quietly, chewing on his lip.

"What's a Blast Ended…thing…?" replied Harry, withdrawing out of Cedric's immediate range. It was easier to look at him in the face from a foot away. As much as Harry didn't want to admit it, Cedric was much taller than him.

"Er, you'll probably learn about them your fourth or fifth year. Creature that farts fire, basically,"

Harry made a face. These creatures didn't sound very pleasant. He hoped Hagrid had never heard of them or else that may end up being the half-giant's next dangerous pet. Cedric pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry's hand, murmuring something. A cooling sensation blanketed Harry's fiery flesh, numbing it. The Hufflepuff then pulled out his typical chair and dropped unceremoniously into it. He looked somewhat nervous now.

"I…don't want anyone to know about _this_ yet. It's way too overwhelming," started Cedric, looking Harry straight in the eye. "I don't know how you feel about this entire situation but well, anyway you look at it, it's not normal."

"What is normal?" Harry wanted to ask back but he bit his tongue instead. He knew deep down this was something that was going to remain between the two of them. A secret. Besides, he himself was unwilling to tell his two best friends what was going on in his life.

"You don't…have a name to call '_this_'?" mumbled Harry after a moment of contemplation. His green eyes could only look at the candlelight dancing across the tabletop.

"Do you?" Cedric piped back.

They were beginning to throw up their guards and walls now, managing to erase completely the minute of tenderness they shared after Harry's burn. They were back to being stubborn, emotionally awkward teenage boys. One of which who was practically homophobic. How ridiculous.

"If…this is so hard for you to come to terms with, then why don't we just forget it ever happened," Harry suggested. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them deeply. He didn't want to forget and he didn't want Cedric to either.

The Hufflepuff however seemed both surprised and relieved at Harry's comment. He left out a wavering breath and ran a hand through his hair. A delicate smile curved his light coral lips.

"That'd be the best for both of us I think. I mean…I'm not a poof and neither are…" Cedric trailed off at that point as if coming to an abrupt realization. "You…aren't gay…are you Harry?"

The raven haired boy's stomach clenched tightly at the question and he stopped breathing. Could he lie to Cedric? He could…but he would never be able to gain back the Hufflepuff's trust if he lied to him about something…as significant as this. A part of him was bitter and felt as though his orientation wasn't any of Cedric Diggory's business. The other half argued that Cedric was his friend, as well as a boy Harry shared kisses with. That it was more than enough for him to share that scary secret with.

The third year nodded dejectedly and muttered, "I think…I _might_ be. I am attracted to girls but, well…"

A wretched silence spread between them and Harry could have sworn he heard the crack of the rivet starting to grow between him and his upperclassman again. Something inside Harry bristled and the boy felt an anger rise, fueled by the rejection that was sure to come. When he spoke, Harry's voice was trembling with a dull rage.

"Go ahead. Call me all those nasty names. Call me…a freak. Not like I'm not used to being treated badly. You don't want to be my friend anymore right? Now that you know I'm one of those poofs you're so terrified of—"

"I don't have a problem with gays. But I can't go around supporting them either. My dad—"

"You're a coward! That's not a Hufflepuff attitude at all. What is it you can't accept? The fear of your father rejecting you?! Or being with another man?!"

"What do you know?! You'll never understand the terror of being rejected by a parent figure!"

"Because my mum and dad are dead," hissed Harry coldly in retort. His green eyes darkened.

Cedric knew he had crossed over a line he shouldn't have, although it was quite unintentional. He had not been thinking about Harry's history as an orphan when he lost his temper. Now he had a trembling friend in front of him, undoubtedly feeling betrayed and alone. Before he could apologize and tell his underclassman that he was sorry, Harry snatched up his backpack—with his raw hand—and cussed sharply as the pain revisited him. He stormed from the library.

Hazel eyes gazed blankly at the path Harry had left on for almost an hour after the third year fled. They trailed over the furious footprints the boy's tennis shoes had engraved in the dust. Slowly, they then turned to stare at the flickering flames of the floating, everlasting candles positioned throughout the library. He wondered if staring into the bits of fire was what made his eyes burn so badly…

--

: P

Don't lose faith in Cedric. He'll redeem himself soon. He's just having inner struggles right now.

I listened to "Heaven's Not Enough" by Steve Conte while writing this chapter. It is one of my favorite songs and it fits Harry/Cedric's relationship well.

**And thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far! I really appreciated it!**

British Slang for this Chapter that you may not know:

Bunking—sleeping with/having sex with

Shirtlifter—slang for a gay man.

Birds--girls


	10. Romantic Rescue

Thank you to everyone continuing to read--Jack

4, 215 hits and 981+ visitors about a month after I first posted Chapter 1 of "Decoding You"!

SORRY FOR TAKING SO DAMN LONG! Wow, I must say I am very excited and pleased to see how many people found (and like) my fanfiction. To all who reviewed, or added me to some alert list, thank you so much!! And an equally big thanks to those who just read my fiction as well. Your support means a lot. I apologize again for how long this took to update but unfortunately, college work is insane and takes priority over my hobbies. Need to make good grades, you know?

: /

Chapter 10: The Romantic Rescue

Cedric Diggory was in a stupor for the days following the incident with Harry in the library. He was not the type of person to ever sink into a rut, however, the events following the _incident_ helped to shift him into one. Harry was ignoring him, but not in a way where it emanated anger. No, it was an indifference seemingly masked in hurt. It was evident on Harry's face; Cedric had hurt him.

Guilt coated the older teen's gut and he continually stared at his Runes partner from the corner of his eye. He had been silently staring at Harry for four days now. Not once had the Griffindor brought up their fight or even had spoken to him. Like a good student, Harry had thrown himself into taking hefty notes in Ancient Runes. It was the Hufflepuff boy who was slacking off this time.

After class ended, Harry left with Hermione without saying a word. Cedric was slow packing up his things. Then he was out in the corridor heading for his next class. Meanwhile, heading in the opposite direction, Hermione was interrogating Harry.

"What's with you? You're like a zombie!"

"Nothing's wrong," Harry mumbled back, glaring at his shoes as they walked.

Hermione narrowed her chocolate eyes at him suspiciously. Her intuition was telling her something was wrong but she chose not to press the subject. Looking at Harry though, his face somewhat ashen and emerald eyes hazed over, worry settled in her stomach.

"Tell me when you're ready then Harry," she said comfortingly, tucking a lock of fluffy hair behind her ear.

This statement raised a reaction from the third year boy and he turned towards Hermione, chapped lips parted in surprise. How did girls manage to be so damn perceptive? Well, he probably made it quite obvious he was depressed. Harry felt as though he hadn't smiled in ages, let alone laughed. It was making a part of him feel much older than thirteen. The Boy Who Lived furrowed his brows momentarily and then gave his best friend a shallow nod before Ron sprang up to them.

"I'm starving!" was the first thing to leave the red head's mouth. The abrupt change of conversation was too much for Harry's stretched nerves and for the first time in days, he cracked a grin.

"Yeah, so am I."

--

Up in the Aviary, Cedric sat on dropping strewn steps surrounded by mashed up parchment balls. His hand moved quickly across the paper, words flying out from beneath his quill in deep blue ink.

_Dear Harry,_

_Forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. I really didn't. Is there anything I can do to_

He paused at this part of the sentence, sneered, and then promptly crumpled up his fifteenth piece of paper. Hissing in frustration, he pulled out a fresh sheet. All of his letters we either too uncaring or too gooey. This last one had sounded like second rate song lyrics. Cedric couldn't seem to find the happy median for his apology to Harry. Taking up his quill once again, he lowered it to the parchment. He took a deep breath and began to write once again.

_Dear Harry,_

_I never knew apologies could be so difficult. Usually an "I'm sorry," works and then life goes on. Somehow, I feel "I'm sorry," just doesn't cut it right now. What I said to you was wrong. I wasn't thinking and in my temper, said something hurtful to you. So how am I to apologize? You won't talk to me or even look at me. I'm not using that as an excuse though._

_Harry, you seem to bring out the worst in me. No, I think instead you just show me my weaknesses. I don't like being shown them. Who would? All my life I've really never noticed I even had them. Am I that vain? Or am I just a blind man? Being blind to my faults…..that is just too convenient an excuse for my arrogance. I'm not going to use it. Yes, I admitted I'm arrogant. You helped me to see that one night in the library. I asked what you desired most. I figured you'd want to become more like me. Popular and such. But I think I understand now that your desires go so much deeper than that. You're missing a piece of your life you can never get back. Parents. I really need to learn to think before I speak. I messed up big time._

_Since our fight, I can't get my mind off of what you said to me. Calling me a coward and telling me my behavior wasn't the Hufflepuff way of handling things. A part of me really hates that you were right when you said that. And Harry, as for what I'm afraid of…it's definitely my dad rejecting me. I don't want him to look at me with disgust or worse…shame. I really love my father and although I know he loves me back, the knowledge of….what's happened between you and I….would not please him in the slightest. He can be a real git sometimes. I'm afraid of what he would think of me. And of us together. So I guess that also makes me afraid of being with another man. I am ashamed that I feel this way; that….I feel things towards you. It's a passion as intense as what I experience playing Quidditch. A powerful rush. Do you believe me when I tell you that? It's a fire burning inside that threatens to…eat me alive. Consume me. Devour me. Destroy me._

_I want to be your friend but I don't at the same time. Our intimacy can't really be denied, can it? Do I want more? I know…that my body does. And to be honest, I'm not really sure how to deal with that fact. I don't care that you're gay…or half-gay. Or whatever you are. It doesn't matter. I mean, despite all the labels, you're still Harry…right? And I think that is all that matters. For once, I'm going to try and ignore titles and opinions. Maybe then I can learn what it truly means to have Hufflepuff pride…_

Cedric let out a long breath. He hadn't realized he had been holding it until his quill dotted the final period of the letter. His writings had gone much further than he originally had planned. Far from an apology, it was more like a reflection of his inner turmoil. It was too personal and revealing. A croaking whine slipped out of Cedric's throat and he tore the letter in half, shoving it gruffly into his bag. He missed his entire lunch with nothing to show for it. No food to rid his hunger and no apology for a boy he felt so tenderly towards.

--

Sleepless nights were becoming an issue for Harry. He would lay in bed for hours with nothing better to do than stare blandly up at the canopy of his bed. That, and think of Cedric. Harry knew that Cedric hadn't meant to say what he did. True, the statement stung a little when he thought about it but it wasn't why he wasn't speaking to Cedric. No, it was the look of relief that had washed over Cedric's features when Harry suggested they forget—or ignore—the feeling between them.

An ache rose deep in the raven haired boy's chest and he slid the curtain back from his bed. Like every night since their fight, Harry wandered over to his trunk and pulled out his father's cloak. He slipped it over himself, grabbed the Marauder's Map, and tapped methodically down the stone spiral staircase. The common room was barren, unsurprisingly. It must have been around two in the morning. Harry reached out from under his cloak and pushed the back of the Fat Lady's portrait. She opened silently to his satisfaction.

Outside, Harry wandered barefoot down random corridors without any destination. It felt good to move. Something about remaining stationary seemed to amplify his stress level. There was so much going on right now. Between Sirius Black, Hagrid's disappearance, and then Cedric…well, Harry was feeling overwhelmed.

Harry had come to a stop in front of all the shifting staircases and debated which one to take. Any of them would do, he decided, as long as they didn't bump him into Filch. Invisibility Cloak seemed useless on Filch's cat who probably relied on scents; not to mention the Filch could understand her—mostly.

Pulling out the Marauder's Map, Harry unfurled it awkwardly underneath the Cloak and scanned it. Luckily for him, the sadistic janitor was creeping around in the dungeons. So, the best option was to go up. There weren't too many dots prowling around at this time of night, so when the spot labeled _Cedric Diggory_ could be seen on the 9th floor, Harry's heart skipped a beat. Up it was for sure—

Inwardly, the third year worried if his actions were borderline stalking. He wanted to take advantage of the fact Cedric couldn't see him. Harry had been avoiding looking at the handsome Hufflepuff and his chest ached painfully at the fact they hadn't spoken in days. Lost in his thoughts, Harry didn't even realize his feet were carrying him (which seemed to be a new habit of his) anywhere until an odd rattling caught his attention. The cloak made his vision slightly hazy and the dimly lit corridor made it impossible to see what was ahead of him. After a moment, Harry slipped off the cloak and draped it over his forearm. His wand was removed and gripped by his steady right hand.

"Lumos…" he whispered.

A beam of light shot out from the tip of his wand and Harry squinted ahead of him towards the clanking noise. Ten feet in front of him was a trunk, wheezing and creaking. It jumped slightly before slamming into the wall behind it. The chains wrapped about the trunk clinked and rattled ominously, managing to plant a seed of fear in Harry. He frowned at it, disturbed.

Suddenly the trunk burst open, shards of chains and metal flying about. One scraped past Harry's cheek and he felt warm liquid seep from the wound. Out from the trunk rose a dark, hooded creature. Harry's nostrils filled with the pungent odor of rot and he gagged, covering his mouth quickly. The Dementor floated towards him, scaly hands raised to pull back the hood. The raven haired boy staggered further backwards, stumbling as well as dropping his wand. He gazed at it in despair as it rolled away in the direction of his worst nightmare. His mother's scream started to fill his ears and then—

Pop!

The Dementor was gone and a handsome, somewhat balding wizard stood there, his back to Harry. His robes were clean and made from glamorous, shiny material. Then the man charged away from Harry and began shouting vehemently,

"Are you serious? You can't possibly be serious! My son is not some botty boy! Do you hear me?! I did not raise my son to be some limp wristed queer! I'm ashamed of you! Two bloody men can't love each other! That's fucking disgusting! You don't love him, he doesn't love you! Don't be such a bloody git! What would your mother say if she knew?! She'd be heartbroken to hear she gave birth to a bloomin' shirtlifter! You'll burn in Hell for—"

"R-Ridiculous!" a quaking but deep voice shouted.

Another Pop and then—

Harry gazed up from the dusty floor at…himself. His doppelganger stood there, a heavy sneer set on his face. One hand was perched on his hip defiantly and his green eyes seethed with hatred. Then his twin turned around and spoke in a wretched voice,

"Me, love you? Are you stupid? We're just fooling around. It's nothing serious. You said it yourself. We aren't gay. We just got swept up by hormones. Bloody Hell, get over yourself. How could I possibly love someone like y—"

"Ridiculous!!" bellowed Harry, pointing his wand up at, well, himself. There was a mighty whoosh of air as whatever the creature was, fled back into the trunk. The lid slammed shut loudly, echoing off the stone walls. For a moment, Harry just lay on his stomach, arm outstretched where he had reached his wand, stunned. When the dust settled, Harry's eyes focused on a pale, upset Cedric Diggory a few yards in front of him. Reluctantly, the older boy stepped forward and offered the third year a hand up, which was accepted warmly.

"W-What was that?" asked Harry shakily, brushing dust off the front of his robes.

Cedric shifted uncomfortably in front of him, avoiding eye contact. In the wandlight, Harry noticed that his hazel eyes were brimmed with dampness. Angry tears? Sad tears? What kind—and why were they there? "It…was a Boggart," muttered Cedric finally, visibly shaking in front of Harry. It was as if his body was out in a snowstorm without any coat. Harry chewed on his lip, worried. Trying to keep the conversation flowing, the raven hair boy asked,

"What's a Boggart?"

A tense silence blossomed between them. Cedric was plainly unwilling to answer and was currently engaged in a fierce staring contest with the tapestry hanging on the wall near them. After a few minutes, the fifth year swallowed and faced Harry, eyes fixed in an intense gaze. The sudden mood shift took Harry off guard and his mouth fell open.

"Cedric, wha—"

Harry's waist was grabbed roughly and lips crashed down on his in a flurry of passions. His smaller body was pushed up against the tapestry and urgent hips bucked into his own. All at once, Harry's body was on fire. Cedric released a throaty groan and large hands snaked into the third year's silky black hair. They were kissing deeply again, tongues locked in a battle neither boy could win. The sensation of Cedric sliding that damp heat over him created a pressure in the pit of Harry's stomach. He rolled into that pressure and felt something firm on his thigh, In the haze of pleasure that was threatening to consume him, it took Harry a good long moment to realize exactly what the hardness was.

Shocked but equally aroused, Harry dug his nails into the Hufflepuff's upper arms. Cedric seemed to revel in the sensation and he leaned down, practically purring into the base of Harry's neck. Teeth were on him there now, nipping, scraping, and dragging all along his skin. Mewls passed through Harry's lips against his will and he felt a droplet of sweat trickle down the length of his face. He writhed against Cedric's form and the older boy dropped one hand to grip Harry's arse through his robes, using the leverage to force their erections together. The friction was both painful and delicious.

Suckling began on the lobe of Harry's ear, sending wave after wave of thrills down his spine. His back arched and that warm tongue moved to trace the curve of his ear. Then, it mapped its way down his jaw line and back into his mouth. Harry moaned wantonly into the kiss, clinging to Cedric. He let a small whine out when the sandstone lips parted from his.

"I…I'm sorry!" exclaimed Cedric, wrapping Harry into a tight embrace.

Confused, aroused, and flabbergasted, Harry replied after a moment, "S'ok…?"

"I never meant to say that stuff about your parents Harry. I was the world's biggest prat!"

Huh?

Oh.

Cedric was apologizing for their fight—

"I-It's fine. I'm not mad anymore," mumbled Harry, trying desperately to ignore the fact his boner was digging into Cedric's leg. Nope, he was anything **but** mad. However, Cedric continued to embrace him tenaciously.

"Harry…I'm…a coward just like you said. I'm afraid of so many things—no—people in my life. I can't keep denying _this_,"

Mutedly, Harry nodded, though he honestly couldn't get his brain to operate at the moment. It had stalled somewhere between Cedric biting his neck and grabbing his arse. He was still waiting for it to reboot.Cedric's lips brushed Harry's ear, coaxing a shiver out of the smaller boy. Harry braced himself for the intimacies to start back up again when suddenly Cedric whispered,

"Harry Potter….I've fallen for you,"

--

Well, dear readers…please don't become too frustrated with me. I'm learning to time manage in college and well, it took three weeks before I finally got the hang of it and got to write this chapter. Woo. This was probably the hardest one to write and I'm still trying to figure out why. This is an infamous, somewhat cliché, cliff hanger.

I know…I know…but this is how the chapter naturally ended. I will update in less than a month this time, since I'm settled. For all you readers out there who aren't in college, **people don't exaggerate about the work load.** There's my forewarning to you, lol! Thank you for all your support!!


	11. An Emotional Exchange

Thank you to anyone continuing to read--Jack

--

"_I've fallen for you."_

Harry's face lit up. Fallen for? Did that mean what it sounded like?

Gentle lips pressed against his cheek and calloused hands reached down to grasp the third year's sweaty ones. Harry felt long fingers lace his own and his hands were pulled up, pinned on either side of his head against the wall. Cedric's warm, firm body was flush against him and soft kisses rained down on Harry's parted lips. A different kind of heat was threatening to consume the young teen. It washed over him, soaking him, drowning him, lifting him. His heart pulsed rapidly and his breath came out in hasty pants. What was this feeling? He understood Cedric's words had triggered it…but beyond that, Harry was lost in a tingly haze. Butterflies danced around inside him as Cedric's tongue traced his lower lip. The older teen bit down lightly, pulled, then released.

The raven haired boy's knees were shaking and somewhere in the back of his consciousness, realized that Cedric's dead weight pinning him was the only reason he was still currently standing. Damp sandstone lips trailed along his jaw before dropping to his exposed throat. Harry tilted his head back, a quiet noise leaking from him as Cedric licked at the hollow of his neck. The fingers laced with Harry's tightened when the boy moaned.

The handsome fifth year shifted to nip at Harry's earlobe and their erections bumped against each other again. The contact forced Cedric to pause, his glassy hazel eyes lifting to meet Harry's equally bright emerald ones. It was as if the locked gaze asked a silent question. When the raven haired boy made no sign of hesitance or protest, Cedric slowly pushed himself Harry in a very intimate way. Green eyes widened and lips parted in a silent gasp.

The pressure disappeared and then rolled back once more. Harry shut his eyes and gripped at Cedric's trembling hands as the older teen continued to move against him. They were close enough that Harry buried his face in the crook of Cedric's neck and shoulder. The Hufflepuff's hips pressed forward again and Harry's breath quickened. Against the right side of his chest, the third year could feel the Cedric Diggory's steady heartbeat. Despite the intensity of feeling another person push against him, embrace him, kiss him…Harry felt a sense of comfort and security. Inside his heart, the words resurfaced.

"_I've fallen for you."_

Harry cried out against Cedric's neck. The words continued to echo in his mind. The situation was becoming overwhelming. The heat. The heat from those words and the heat from their bodies. All this heat.

Harry turned his head a little and groaned deeply into Cedric's shirt; the Hufflepuff robes the older teen wore had long since slipped down to his bent elbows. The third year heard a groan returned to him next to his ear. They couldn't turn back now. They had gone too far. This was only leading to one thing. But even though this dangerous game continued, Cedric was gentle. Each thrust against the front of Harry's robes seemed to imply a thousand unspoken words. This was not just physical. Harry's intuition whispered that this was _more._ He could tell Cedric wouldn't hurt him. This was leading into something that couldn't be labeled a game. Where exactly were they heading?

"_I've fallen for you."_

Harry's body started shaking and he began rubbing himself back against Cedric, meeting each thrust. Each movement gave birth to a moan that slipped out Harry's mouth. It felt natural to let go and give in to the pleasure.

"_I've fallen for you."_

Over and over, he heard the words. Harry listened to Cedric say it again and again in his mind. The raven haired boy panted harder and felt all the blood draining southward. This was something more. Something more…

This was…love.

The third year convulsed in two, short spasms against Cedric. He felt his semen spurt a few times from the tip of his member, collecting on the inside of his boxers. In his climax, Harry had bit down on Cedric's shoulder, through the other boy's school shirt. Cedric moaned loudly in shock and he pressed against Harry hard, making a soft choking noise. In the fog of Harry's post orgasmic mind, he was delighted as he felt one thick pulse of Cedric's cock after another, knowing he was ejaculating also.

Moments passed with nothing but the teens' heavy breaths in the air. Their hands remained locked, slick with sweat as much as the rest of their bodies. Cedric pulled back far enough to kiss Harry once again, deeply. The raven haired boy felt his cheeks grow warm and his heart beat happily in his chest. A strong relaxation was overcoming him and he allowed himself to sink entirely into Cedric's open embrace.

They remained this way for several minutes, exchanging long kisses. When they finally separated to put about a foot between them, it was because of the uncomfortable, chilled wetness leftover from their earlier passions. Cedric looked thoroughly embarrassed as he attempted to discreetly tug at the crotch of his jeans to relieve some of the discomfort there. However, touching the front of ones jeans in _any_ kind of way is difficult to hide, especially if a person is merely inches from you. The action brought a goofy grin to Harry's face. Cedric caught the third year's amused expression and gave him a fake glare as if to say, "What's so funny about this?"

Cedric leaned in once more and brushed his lips against Harry. It was as if the older boy couldn't get enough of the contact and that notion filled the young Griffindor to the brim with the tender warmth only Cedric gave him.

"It's late. We're…dishevled. Can I walk you back to Griffindor Tower?" asked Cedric, his voice laced with a delicate huskiness. Harry was distracted from the sexiness of Cedric's voice because of his word choice. _Disheveled._ Harry swallowed back a snort. It sounded so…formal. Cedric could be so tactful sometimes it was ridiculous. However, it was precisely this tactfulness that added a whole new layer of romance to what had just transpired between them.

Harry nodded, although he did feel somewhat uncomfortable. Cedric was kind to escort him back to Griffindor Tower, but Harry did not want to be treated like a girl. Harry was sure that it wasn't Cedric's intention to effeminate him. The older teen was right. It was late and the lack of sleep was finally sneaking up on Harry. He wasn't going to argue against being chaperoned. Besides, he didn't want to leave the Hufflepuff's side just yet. And maybe, just maybe, Cedric felt the same way.

Tomorrow, they would have a lot to discuss but for now, the two walked in a comfortable silence through the halls of Hogwarts. At the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry laughed quietly into his hand at Cedric's bemused expression. The Hufflepuff had never seen her before and admittedly, she looked rather funny, head bobbing up and down as she snored.

Slender fingers reached out and painted their way from Harry's scar, down the bridge of his nose, across the curve of his cheek, and finally over his swollen lips. Hazel pierced green and a warm smile graced Cedric's lips as he bid Harry goodnight.

"We'll talk about all of this. I promise," he whispered, slowly backing away.

Harry watched him leave, practically floating. After Cedric could no longer be seen, the Boy Who Lived woke up the Fat Lady (she was quite upset about having her slumber disturbed) and entered the dormitory. He stripped down, put on fresh pajamas, and crawled into bed. He lay there only for a couple moments before his drowsiness promptly vanished. The shock of what he just did with Cedric came out of nowhere, crashing down on him, causing Harry to bite the knuckles on his right hand. Overall, Harry felt completely buzzed at the realization that he and Cedric had got off together. Not only that, they had made out rather enthusiastically. And even before all of _that_ happened, Cedric had said…he'd fallen for Harry.

Another cheesy grin lit Harry's face. Cedric liked him. More than liked him, apparently. Hopefully, things wouldn't get awkward between them. A strange sense of anticipation now claimed Harry's chest. What did the future hold for Cedric and him? Could they actually become involved, as in a relationship? Or would they continue to secretly host these fiery feelings and reach for each other in the dark?

Harry rolled over and shook his head. All of this could be thought about in the morning. Right now he preferred to close his eyes and fall asleep while remembering the feel of Cedric's lips upon his.

--

All throughout breakfast, Ron and Hermione stared completely befuddled at Harry. Their friend sported a hefty smile as he munched on buttered toast and a broad grin as he chewed on his bacon. He was almost starry eyed. It was a complete 180 degree difference from his mood the past several days.

"Hand me that bacon," urged Ron, mouth open in a stunned fashion. "I want to eat whatever he's eating,"

Hermione pushed the tray over to the redhead who dove into it, taking about eight pieces. "It's like the house elves spiked his food with something…" mumbled Ron, his mouth full of bacon. Hermione curled her lip in disgust at her friend's terrible table manners.

"Don't talk with your mouth full Ronald. For God's sake," she admonished, handing him a napkin.

"Bloody Hell, you sound like my Mum," retorted Ron although he accepted the napkin.

On the way to Ancient Runes, Hermione decided to ask Harry about his change of attitude. Ron parted ways with them and as Hermione prepared to ask, a sharp bang erupted in the hallway. About twenty frogs hopped frantically down the corridor towards them and a couple first year girls started running away, screaming. Two upperclassman Slytherins were sneering and laughing as the girls fled. In all the commotion of teachers coming into the hall to see what was going on and students trying to avoid the deluge of frogs, Hermione didn't get the chance to ask Harry anything.

They entered the classroom together and the brunette made her way to her seat briskly. She glanced over her shoulder to look at Harry one more time and stopped dead, her chocolate eyes widening. Harry was walking slowly over to his usual chair, though it wasn't this that forced the Griffindor girl to a standstill. It was the locked gaze Harry shared with Cedric. It was the way Harry's face seemed to fill with light at that moment and the shy smile that lifted his lips. It was the warmth and gentleness in Cedric's hazel eyes as he gazed over at Harry that made Hermione's mouth fall open.

The two were gazing at each other in a way Hermione could only see as…intimate. She covered her mouth with her hand, stumbled over to her seat, and dropped into it gracelessly. Her Slytherin partner eyed her, confused, before turning his attention elsewhere. She raised her eyes to peer over at the two again and saw Harry's arm brush against Cedric's slightly as he sat down. Hermione also noticed the way Cedric's eyelashes lowered in approval at the action.

The rest of the period, the boys did nothing that could be labeled as unusual, but Hermione couldn't stop staring at them. She was beyond shocked. If Harry were gay, that in itself would be more than enough for her to try and assimilate, but if Cedric Diggory were _gay_ for Harry? Now that was something else entirely. Cedric was the role model for male heterosexuality, at least, he was. He was the wet dream of almost every Hogwart's female. There was no way the two of them could be involved. Or could they be?

She glanced fretfully over them again.

No one else seemed to have taken notice in their shift of behavior. Maybe she was being over-perceptive? Hermione returned to taking notes. They were rather disorganized already.

"Damn…" she cursed under her breath, glaring heatedly at her paper.

Her partner turned at looked at her, surprised, and then grinned broadly. Leave it to a Slytherin to find her frustration amusing. Hermione sighed.

Over at Harry's worktable, the raven haired third year was busy reading a note from Cedric. They were arranging a time to meet and talk about everything. Harry himself wasn't sure what 'everything' entailed, however, he was eager to talk to Cedric.

_Tonight at eleven in the Quidditch Pitch good for you?_

Harry scrawled 'yes' and slid the parchment back to Cedric. The bell rang, echoing throughout the chamber. Wicket danced about, urging them from his classroom. He had repeatedly told them throughout the class that morning that he was working on a big assignment and needed to complete it as soon as possible. The professor was a odd and mysterious man for sure.

Harry waved goodbye to Cedric and joined Hermione in the hall who wore a strained expression on her face. The raven haired boy frowned and asked her what was wrong. Perking up a fake smile, the brunette replied she was fine and just found the class period a bit boring. Harry accepted her answer without question and the two met up with Ron for their next class.

--

A quarter before eleven that night, Harry fidgeted anxiously on the common room couch. He was currently engaged in a chess battle with Ronald that he hadn't truly wanted to participate in. He turned one foot in towards the other, twisted it back, slid it out in front of him, played with a lock of his hair with one hand, and drummed impatiently on the table with his other.

Ron huffed at him, irritably.

"What's up with you mate? Do you have ants in your pants? Pay attention to the fact I'm slaughtering your front,"

"Sorry…I've had a long day. I'm going to go take a walk. I'll be back in a bit," said Harry, standing up.

Hermione eyed him from her armchair in the corner over the brim of her Potions text. Harry exited the Common Room too swiftly, leaving a somewhat hurt Ronald behind. He and Harry used too spend a lot of time together but lately they had been drifting and the redhead didn't understand why. He stared with an empty expression down at the chessboard before standing up slowly. He muttered goodnight and Hermione watched him climb the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

"Alright…I'm getting to the bottom of this," whispered Hermione furiously, snapping her book shut.

She flew up the boy's dormitory stairs into the room that Harry and Ron shared with Dean, Sheamus, and Neville. Ron's four poster's curtains were pulled shut and Hermione made sure to be quiet as she hissed the incantation to open Harry's trunk. She promptly removed Harry's cloak and the Marauder's Map. Pulling on the cloak, Hermione glided back downstairs, and left Griffindor Tower. Sweeping through the halls, Hermione descended to the Entrance Hall and finally out onto the grounds. Harry's labeled dot on the Marauder's Map was moving towards the Quidditch Pitch quickly. Hermione picked up her own pace.

Within a few moments, Hermione had the Quidditch Pitch and Harry Potter in her sight. She moved as quietly as she could after him.

Suddenly a figure came jogging out of the Pitch and approached Harry at a fast face. The third year boy took off towards the figure also and the two met half way. Harry jumped, the figure caught him, and the boy's silhouette could be seen being swung in circles. Hermione used the opportunity to get closer. The spinning stopped and she could see Harry as he was pushed against the side of the stadium and none other than Cedric Diggory bent over and kissed him fiercely.

--

Ah...I broke my promise. I didn't publish the next chapter in under a month. Whoops. I apologize. It figures that I wrote this chapter on the weekend I have to finished a 10 page research paper. Talk about procrastination at it's best, ha! Hope everyone enjoyed. TTFN-


	12. Discovering Differences

To everyone who has reviewed, to everyone who has supported me, to everyone who as been so patient…

Thank you.

Note:: I haven't read the third book since it's first release date which was years ago. Also, the third movie happens to be my least favorite so please bear with me when I have events occur out of order. Some of them I'm bending purposefully because it helps the plot I'm building.

Chapter 12: Discovering Differences

The Boy Who Lived had no idea that as he lifted his toned arms to drape around Cedric's neck, that his best friend was standing fifteen feet away with her hands covering her gaping mouth. The Hufflepuff raked his fingers through Harry's raven locks and they parted, breathing heavy.

"Hey," Cedric breathed, casting his charming grin downwards. The gesture brought bubbled laughter out of the third year in his arms.

"Hey yourself," smiled Harry.

Cedric shifted and sat down in the grass next to Harry, leaning his golden head back against the Pitch's wood frame. The younger boy followed suit, sliding down beside Cedric. They were silent for a moment and Harry's green eyes drifted over the perimeters of Hogwarts' grounds. Silhouettes of dementors could be seen gliding through the air, lit by moonlight. The memory of ice crawling up his arms when he was after the snitch and his mother's scream came to the surface of his mind. A harsh shudder shook Harry's body when he thought about it. Cedric mistook his shiver for something else and Harry felt a strong arm drape across his shoulders.

"Not cold, are you Harry?" inquired the Hufflepuff, the teasing look in his hazel eyes evident even in the dark. Despite being picked on, Harry felt himself relax into the half embrace. He focused his gaze on Cedric instead of the dangerous guards of Hogwarts.

"Not too bad. But I don't want to stay out here too long," Harry mumbled, tilting his head slightly in the direction of the dementors. Harry was ashamed of his extreme susceptibility to the creatures. A rueful grin popped up on Cedric's face and for an instant, Harry felt he could see a mischievous side of the fifth year; a side that yearned for a bit of trouble and that probably secretly admired the Weasley twins' antics.

"Right. Let's cut to the chase then shall we? What exactly are we?" said Cedric bluntly.

Harry felt his jaw go slack and drop a little. Cedric was asking _him _that? Was he really supposed to have the answer? The third year thought about the arm across his shoulders. Truly, it felt like the embrace of a close friend, an embrace he could share with Ron or Hagrid. However, the difference was highlighted whenever he made eye contact with Cedric. Because when that happened, suddenly Harry had the urge to kiss the fifth year until they were both breathless. He certainly didn't feel that way towards Ron or Hagrid. He understand that he had deeper feelings towards the Hufflepuff than anybody else but now he felt fearful labeling the emotions. Harry's mouth began to feel rather dry.

"Erm…" he started, fingers picking at his robes. "We're friends……who snog."

Cedric stared at Harry, eyes wide for a moment. Then he threw his head back and let out one of his strings of husky but bell-like laughter. Harry felt the tips of his ears burn with embarrassment. He honestly didn't think he had said anything wrong. Cedric's amused laughter begun to dim down to an awkward chuckle and he shifted his gaze about for a minute. His mood seemed somber when he finally looked back at Harry.

"We've…done more than kiss."

This simple statement rang in Harry's ears and his previous—and very intimate—encounter with Cedric came back full force. He was grateful that his hands were in his lap to hide the shifting of material underneath. His cheeks burned as his ears had moments ago.

"I-I know," was all Harry could manage.

"Harry……I'm not ready to be open about this. I don't really understand what's going on between us. I—"

"I'm not ready to tell anybody either!" interrupted Harry. Cedric's expression was unreadable momentarily.

"That's….I mean….I'm glad we're on the same page. Harry…I don't know if I'm…you know, gay or not,"

"Well, I think I am. And you know that,"

Cedric blushed at Harry's words and it took the raven haired boy a moment to figure out that the Hufflepuff had taken his statement in a dirty way. Cedric's arm twitched around Harry's shoulders and his gaze began wandering again.

"So what are we Cedric?" whispered Harry, turning the question around.

Their eyes met and Harry's lungs seized up, not allowing him to breath. He loved Cedric's eyes, which were swirling pools of pale greens and golds. "We…" began Cedric, slowly leaning in. Harry's eyes lowered, almost by a will of their own. A snap of a twig close by to them shot Harry and Cedric immediately to their feet. Both boys' wands whipped out and Harry hissed Lumos. A narrow beam of white light swept over the area where the twig presumably broke. Nothing was there. A cold bead of sweat dewed on Harry's brow and trickled down over his temple. A variety of thoughts rushed through his head of what could have caused the noise: a small animal, a fellow student, a dementor, or the most dangerous possibility, Sirius Black.

"Who's there?" called Cedric to the nothingness.

"I think we should go inside Cedric," spoke Harry urgently, reaching out and blindly grabbing the older boy's arm. "C'mon!" With that, the two of them briskly made their way back to the castle, leaving an invisible and flustered Hermione Granger behind. When Hermione herself got back to Griffindor Tower, Harry had not yet arrived and she quickly stowed the Invisibility Cloak and map back in her friend's trunk.

Harry and Cedric had found a secluded alcove close to the Astronomy Tower where they planned to finish the conversations.

"So what, we're like secret boyfriends or something?" asked Harry awkwardly, while he curled and uncurled his toes inside his tennis shoes. Cedric's upper lip lifted in obvious distaste of the word use.

"Er…" he started, combing a hand through his light brown locks. Lovers sounded too…intense. Boyfriends sounded really…gay. But they were somewhere in-between. Fuck buddies? Hell no, Harry was not a fling. If Cedric desired a fling, he'd return to the Ravenclaw girl he'd be taking his desires out on lately. Inwardly, the fifth year winced at this thought. Harry didn't need to know about Cedric's pent up passions towards him. Not that it wasn't made clear up against the wall tapestry the previous night…

Harry watched a slew of expressions flicker over Cedric Diggory's handsome face as he became lost in thought. Eventually the handsome boy caught Harry staring and turned a pale pink in the cheeks.

"What?" he said defensively. Harry almost rolled his eyes.

"Are you going to answer the question? Or is there no answer to it?" the younger boy asked.

"I don't think there's an answer to it,"

"Are we going to keep doing the…things…we've been doing?"

"I…If I had to be honest, I'd say I want to…"

This was a step up for Cedric to admit something like that. Harry felt the butterflies in his stomach swell up. It was so dark in the alcove, Harry could hardly see Cedric and he wondered if the boy was emboldened by the fact they couldn't see each other.

"Me too," answered Harry.

Well, they'd spoken some of unsaid truths but in reality, they hadn't achieved the answer they'd promised to find with the conversation. The two boys were in the exact same position they had been the saying good night outside of the Fat Lady. Still, Harry couldn't conclude the entire conversation pointless because Cedric was beginning to slowly loosen up around the edges.

"So…about the other night…" mumbled Harry, nearly choking on his own spit with nervousness. "You…um…were ok with that?" After a moment of silenced, Cedric whispered back that he was fine with what happened. "And…so…you want to do…more…of—"

Harry was cut off suddenly by the firm pressure of lips over his. "Yes," confirmed Cedric, a ghost of air across Harry's mouth. The lips returned and Harry opened his mouth immediately to allow Cedric access with his tongue. A soft moan rose from him when he got what he wanted. Then Cedric pulled back.

"Is there anything else you want to talk about before I get carried away?" Cedric said quietly, his hand brushing Harry's black bangs away from the boy's face.

Harry knew there was more he wanted to ask but his mind was tripping over itself. Mental clumsiness always ensued after Cedric came into physical contact with him. He concentrated really hard, sifting out inappropriate thoughts as they cropped up.

"Ah!" he exclaimed as he remembered what he wanted to ask.

Cedric's calloused hand slammed over his mouth and Harry felt a sensation of déjà vu. The Hufflepuff had silenced him this way in the library while trying to escape percoscious young women. Harry nearly grinned against the palm of Cedric's hand.

"Shut up Harry. We can't get caught out of bed at these hours," whispered Cedric seriously, forcing a sheepish smile onto Harry's face as an apology. He didn't think Cedric could see his expression though. His hand pulled Cedric's off his face and he whispered back urgently,

"What happened before we got raunchy last night? What was that thing in the trunk? A Baggoo or something?"

In the dark, Harry couldn't see Cedric's embarrassment but he could feel it wafting off of the male. A series of shifty movements started up, a habit of Cedric's Harry had started picking up on. The handsome older boy always seemed to fidget when he was required to explain something personal or something he found uncomfortable.  
"A Boggart, Harry." he corrected, shift yet again.

"And…what is it?"

"A Boggart is a magical creature that bonds itself to a dark and enclosed space. No one knows what a Boggart really looks like because as soon as the space is invaded, the Boggart will transform into what the person fears most. The way to repel Boggarts is through laughter or by the spell 'Ridiculous' which you learned spur of the moment last night."

The third year slowly began processing the information that Cedric had provided him. Images of that balding wizard appeared in his mind's eyes and he made a mental note that the man was probably Cedric's father. Harry knew why the Hufflepuff seemed to have some issues now, if that's how his dad treated him. Next the picture of his doppelganger came up and Harry frowned at how vicious he'd been. Did he really look like that? He definitely didn't act like that. Finally, the icy remembrance of the Dementor rose up and the raven haired boy could practically smell the rot again.

"Cedric…are there ways to kill a Dementor?" asked Harry meekly, resting his head back against the stone wall supporting him. A surprised pause followed and then,

"I don't think so Harry. I mean, they seem dead already don't they? But I have of a charm called a Patronus that repels them. I haven't practiced it much myself. Hogwarts doesn't teach it until sixth or seventh year because it's so advanced—"

Cedrics robes were yanked fiercly and the older boy could suddenly see Harry's face clearly, staring at him determinedly from a few inches away.

"Teach me!" Harry begged in a whisper. "I need to know it!"

"How the hell am I supposed to teach you that? I don't even really know how to do it…just the principles behind the charm. Besides Harry, it would be suicide to go after a Dementor to just practice a charm,"

"We won't be going after a real Dementor. We'll use that Boggart and I'll practice the charm with it,"

Cedric caught the triumphant gleam in Harry's emerald eyes. The younger boy was obviously proud of his discovered solution. A sigh passed through the Hufflepuff's sandstone lips and a grin broke out on Harry's face, knowing he had convinced Cedric to help him.

At breakfast the next morning, Hermione's mood was indescribably foul. She stabbed at her hash browns with a vengeance, causing Harry and Ron to watch her warily, not touching their own food. When she barked at them to eat, they both obediently picked up their forks.

Harry had never been so grateful for a day that didn't have Ancient Runes in it. Hermione's mood was utterly venom laced and he didn't want to be near her. She nearly killed Ron after they finished eating when she overheard him muttering, 'PMS'. A late owl flew in and swooped down ungracefully into Ron's dirty plate. It stuck it's leg out wearily in Harry's direction and he removed the letter quickly. To his and Ron's dismay, Hermione was curious enough about it to remain at the table with them. Opening it, Harry discovered a nearly un-legible letter from Hagrid. Big drops of water—presumably tears—had made the blue ink sloppy and smeared. Somewhere in the mess, the three Griffindors read that Buckbeak was going to be executed. Hermione paled considerably and Ron frowned heavily.

"We have time before class. Let's go see him," Harry suggested, standing. The other two followed him out the door of the Main Hall and out onto the school grounds.

Hagrid's cabin finally had its usual curling stream of smoke issuing from the chimney but his Pumpkin Patch was quite overgrown from his absence. Harry raised a hand and gave a few tentative raps on Hagrid's oversized door. After a moment, the door was wrench open to reveal an unmistakably upset half giant.

"C'mon in…" he blubbered, stumbling back to let the three students into his home.

The Griffindors cautiously took seats at Hagrid's table as he busied himself getting them tea. He got back to the table and handed them their large tea cups before dropping unceremoniously back into his own seat. Fang, his large boarhound, whined from the floor rug he rested on. It was apparent he wasn't happy either when his master was unhappy. Three sets of eyes watched as Hagrid plucked a bottle from inside his coat pocket and tipped it over his own teacup. Fire whiskey clugged out in large amber waves and then the half giant downed the cup.

Now they understood why he was having trouble walking.

"They're gonna kill 'im. They're gonna kill Buckbeak. Execute 'im," Hagrid paused for another drink, this time straight from the bottle. "He ain't done a bloody thing wrong. He's a wild animal. Bloody Malfoys set 'im up. Now he's gonna be killed,"

The men burst into tears and large droplets fell into his wooley beard. Hermione laid a small hand on his forearm in an attempt to comfort him.

"He's tied up out back. Oh I hate seein' 'im all tethered up. It ain't right, I tell you. It ain't right. He outta be roamin' free dammit,"

"Why don't you set him loose Hagrid?"said Ron, placing his cup back onto the table.

"I can't! The Ministry will know! That's where I've been all this time. Bloody government don't play fair at all. Dumbledore's been 'elping all he can. God Bless 'im. Can't set Buckbeak free or I'll be sent to Azkaban. And fired from my job,"

Hagrid was so plastered he couldn't formulate his thoughts in order. Harry hoped the man was on leave and didn't have to teach any classes today. He doubted Madam Pomfrey would be pleased to hand over a potion to sober up a fellow Professor. Over the grounds, they could hear the bells echoing for class.

"We have to go but we'll be back Hagrid. We'll think of something," assured Hermione, rubbing the half-giant's hairy forearm. In response, Hagrid shook his big head exaggeratingly and started up a slur of protests. The three kids left reluctantly, upset to see their friend in such a state.

If Harry thought the day couldn't have gotten worse, he was sorely mistaken. That evening in Griffindor Tower, Harry stepped through the portrait only to witness a terrible scene. Hermione and Ron were on opposite sides of the room, equally red in the face, and screaming at each other. Harry wondered if Hermione's screeching was actually capable of making ears bleed. Ron was to his left, flanked—well actually being gripped on either side—by Dean and Seamus. The two strong boys actually seemed to be straining holding Ron back as he bellowed at Hermione.

The bushy brunette was to Harry's right with Neville Longbottom and Lavender Brown who seemed to be sympathizing with Hermione's case of the argument. In her arms, Hermione clung to Crookshank and had tears of fury running down her cheeks. Actually, Ron seemed just as upset but his manhood probably dictated him not to cry in front of everyone. His light brown eyes were bright with those unshed tears.

"Dammit I'm going to kill that fucking cat!!" he screamed, making another pull away from his housemates who in turn, yanked him back.

"He's an animal Ronald!! It is in his instinct to hunt!!" shrieked Hermione back, squeezing her cat to her chest. Neville and Lavender nodded in concurrence.

"IT ATE SCABBERS!! THAT FOUL, BLOODY, FLUFFY FUCK ATE MY SCABBERS!!" shrilled Ron, this time a tear slipped out of his eye. In some manner of strength he ripped away from Seamus and Dean, wiping angrily at his face a storming up the steps to the boy's dormitories. Harry turned as the saying goes, flabbergasted as a flobberworm, to gape at Hermione. In his opinion, Ron was in the right. Hermione's nasty pet had killed Ron's fat, lazy but loveable one.

He shook his shaggy black head and trooped up the spiral staircase after Ron. He hadn't been the greatest friend lately but he certainly was going to make up for it. Upon reaching the third year's room however, the crimson curtains surrounding his best friend's bed had been shut, meaning he wanted time alone and his own space. Respecting this, Harry gathered his bath items and pajamas and went into the communal bath to prepare for bed. As he brushed his teeth, Harry solemnly noted he hadn't touched his homework yet today. This was an extreme problem, considering Snape had assigned a parchment two feet long due the upcoming Monday for Potions class on why Shrinking potions differ from Diminishing potions. Oh joy.

Harry made his way back to his bed and caught Seamus and Dean whispering animatedly to each other. The raven haired boy eavesdropped and heard small phrases like 'there was a smear of blood' and 'the fur was everywhere' before deciding he didn't want to listen in anymore. After laying in bed for a while, Harry realized he hadn't spoken to Cedric that day at all. Normally, this wouldn't have come to his attention but after Cedric's confession, he thought about the older boy twice as much. One thought led to another and the boy's horomones kicked in causing him to glare heatedly at the ceiling of his dorm as a hard-on formed. It almost felt inappropriate to be aroused after a day of experiencing peoples' stresses. Harry didn't engage in masterbating as much as other boys seemed to. He overheard Dean saying he did it daily before. Despite himself, Harry blushed. He couldn't imagine doing it daily but if Cedric continued to pin him against walls, he wouldn't ever need to.

'Bad reasoning…' thought Harry, as he had a full erection now.

Sighing heavily, he rolled over and pointedly ignored his arousal until it softened and he was able to fall asleep. And that night, the strange dream consumed him.

_Harry was sitting on a comfortable, quilt covered bed, while watching a figure hunch over a desk in front of him. The boy seemed to be writing. A few minutes, the boy shut what he was scrawling in and turned to Harry. He was quite attractive, having red tinted auburn hair that swept low over his eyebrows. Then, runes began splashing all over the bare walls of the room, dripping down and spinning as if performing a dance. They were runes of several eras and languages. Transfixed by them, Harry did not hear the boy as he approached. His pretty blue eyes almost seemed to sparkle as they gazed down at Harry. The boy was lanky and tall like Ron._

"_Did you find my secrets yet?"_

_Pink in the cheeks Harry replied,_

"_I don't understand what you're talking about. Who are you?"_

"_I'm one with secrets of course,"_

"_You aren't making any sense,"_

"_Answer me this riddle and I'll tell you my secret: The person who makes this doesn't use it for himself. The person who buys it doesn't use it for himself either. But the person who does use it, doesn't even know that he is. What is it?"_

_Harry was frozen into an overwhelmed silence._

"_Pity you couldn't give the answer. It's a coffin…"_

Harry awoke in a cold sweat, panting. There was something very disturbing about the dream. The third year could still remember the haunting smile on the young man's face as he spoke the answer. Ever since he began working with Cedric on deciphering the Runes, his dreams had been taking a turn for the worse. Sitting there in bed, wiping the dampness from his face, Harry wondered what exactly Cedric and he had gotten themselves into with their school project.

Well there's a hefty, long overdue chapter. I apologize for the wait. I'm free to work on this story for a month so I'll have plenty of time to write. I really appreciate the reviews. I hope you will continue to follow my fanfiction. --Jack


	13. Promiscuous Practices

I think it's time for me to restate that I own nothing of Harry Potter. This is a simple fiction for fans, by a fan.

Thanks for reading so far--Jack

Happy Early New Year!

Chapter 13: Promiscuous Practices

The dusty table seemed of great interest to Harry and he stared at it without blinking for several minutes. Across the table, his Rune's partner in turn, found great interest in Harry's lack of concentration and stared at his underclassman. Sandstone lips pursed. A chunk of time rolled by sluggishly before Cedric stretched his quill out and brushed the tip of the eagle's feather underneath the raven youth's nose.

Harry sneezed and turned to Cedric, bewildered.

"What was that for?" he asked, rubbing his nose fiercely.

"Something bothering you Harry? You're completely spacing out. First you refused to work on our project and now you won't read up on the next chapter for class either. Are you holding a telepathic conversation with the worktable? Or is it the dust bunnies who are talkative today?"

Harry frowned, unmoved by Cedric's jokes, and slumped down in his chair. Ever since his strange dream, he couldn't compel himself to look at the papers, let alone work on them. The third year was intimidated by the documents, even if he knew it was ridiculous to be. Chewing on his lip, Harry let his eyes wander hesitantly into Cedric's unwavering hazel gaze. Concern cloaked the colors in them and the Hufflepuff's lips were now tilted into a soft frown.

"Nothing's…," whispered Harry before sighing. He couldn't lie to Cedric. "Ok there is something wrong…but I'm not actually ready to talk about it." Cedric nodded in understanding but seemed a little anxious.

"It's not about us, right?" the handsome older teen asked quietly, peering up at Harry through dark gold lashes. Oh, Cedric certainly knew how to give how to give the right looks. Harry's jaw went slack and his mouth fell open in appreciation of how attractive his Rune's partner was. What was the question again?

"Uh…" said Harry, stupidly. "N-No! Of course not! I love how—"

He stopped mid sentence and shut his mouth sharply, a faint pink lighting his cheeks. His green eyes returned to conversing with the table. He missed the shy but pleased smile that graced Cedric's smooth features. "Love how what, Harry?" he pressed.

The third year played with his fingers. Cedric was teasing him again, he just knew it.

"Erm…"

A hand gripped Harry's chin and warm lips suddenly pushed against his parted mouth. Emerald eyes—wide with shock—could see Cedric had deftly half perched himself on the table to kiss him. The way his knee was crooked against the wood was reflective of the night it was placed on a certain hospital wing bed.

"Me too," grinned Cedric, giving Harry an unabashed wink. The boy flushed and that seemed all the permission Cedric needed to lean back in for more.

Harry trudged up to Griffindor Tower with an invisible, but ominous cloud over his head. In his backpack rested a dark red book, lined with a mahogany border. After the boys' brief snogging session, Cedric had pointedly shoved a book across the table with an academic air to rival Hermione's. Apparently, Harry was in charge of translating the entire thing himself. This book served as his personal contribution to the project. Cedric had a booklet of papers the size of a Webster's Dictionary and two smaller books to take care of. Cedric Diggory had mentioned in passing that if they were successful, the project would secure them a job at the Ministry upon graduating. Still, it was a lot of work...which Cedric had most of. A pang of guilt seized the third year and he chewed on his tongue as he walked.

In Griffindor Tower he dropped onto one of the crimson couches and reluctantly pulled out the assigned book. He flipped lazily through the pages, the chicken-scratch writing enough to make his lip curl. The portrait sounded before him and Hermione wandered into the common room. She looked absolutely exhausted. Ron and Harry hadn't seen her at dinner that night either. Sitting up, Harry waved at her and called out her name. Tired brown eyes made contact with him and a depleted 'ello Harry' drifted across the Common Room. Startled, Harry watched in disbelief as Hermione trudged towards the stairs to the girls' dormitory without further conversation. What was wrong with her?

"Harry!!" several male voices bellowed simultaneously, followed by a chorus of stomping feet.

The boy addressed whipped around to see Ron, Dean, Neville, and Seamus tripping over themselves in excitement as they came down the boys' staircase. Their faces were flushed and eyes wide with obvious exhilaration. In Ron's freckled hands was a broom. And not just any broom either.

Harry was on his feet in .05 seconds and across the room in front of his housemates. The broom was the brand new Firebolt, the best and most expensive broomstick model on the Wizard market. The polished wood glistened beautifully, taking Harry's breath away. When he was going to start asking questions, Harry noticed a tag tied near the top. Scrawled upon the small paper was a brief message:

_Merry belated Christmas Harry._

The raven haired boy's jaw dropped for the second time that hour and he held out his hands in a stunned fashion. Ron obliged by giving the Firebolt to Harry. Calloused fingertips gently trailed down the shaft of the broom lovingly. This…masterpiece was his? From whom though?

"Who's that from?" quipped Hermione, from the other side of the room.

All five boys looked over at her and half of them shrugged. "Don't touch that anymore. Any of you! An unaddressed thing like that could have curses places on it! It's too suspicious! You need to tell Professor McGonagall." she shrilled, visibly paling from her side of the room. Ron scowled heavily at her.

"Bugger off Hermione. We've all touched it. We're fine. Harry's just got a secret admirer, don't you Harry?" said Ron, lifting his chin high. Harry didn't know about the secret admirer part but he did agree that the broom was his and it wasn't cursed. The atmosphere in the room changed to a dangerous low and Hermione glared daggers at the cocky group of boys. She seemed as though she was about to say something especially nasty but then decided against it, striding up the stairs to her dorm in a billow of robes.

Upstairs, as everyone discussed the Firebolt animatedly, Hermione's warnings started to eat at Harry internally. What if she was right? (And she usually was…) Green eyes lowered to stare at his upturned hands as his imagination allowed him to picture them getting blown off as he tried to mount the broom. Shuddering, Harry was yanked from his inner conflict by Ron and Seamus insisting he give it a test run around the room. Shaking off the fear, Harry stood and reached for his present.

"Stop right there, Mr. Potter," a cool voice said.

Professor McGonagall, dressed in her nightclothes with her hair down, gazed sternly over at them. Her wand was removed and the Firebolt floated obediently over to the Griffindor Head of House.

"What are you doing?" Harry croaked, watching his wonderful gift become confiscated.

"Mr. Potter, you are well aware of the danger present this year. This is a suspicious object and must be put through testing to remove any hexes or curses that must surely be upon it. Rest assured, your broom will be returned to you when we deem it safe."

"Hermione…" growled Ron rather viciously under his breath. He was red with anger. McGonagall's authoritative stare veered over to the carrot top. Even through Ron was taller and much younger, he cowered under her gaze.

"Ms. Granger was correct informing me of this threat. You should thank her, all of you. And if I hear any of you give her problems whatsoever about this, so help me I will have every single one of you in detention with Filch for a month. Goodnight."

Unbelievable. This was unbelievable.

Spirits dampened by McGonagall's scolding, the third years got ready for bed, bad mouthing her. Beneath his covers, Harry felt very bitter towards Hermione. The broom was fine. She was just being paranoid. He had better get it back before the game against Slytherin in two weeks. On top of that, the stress of his Rune's project was looming over his peace of mind. That whole bloody book needed to be translated before the end of term. What a nightmare—

--

There was something undeniably thrilling about the situation, Harry decided as he stood in the Hufflepuff locker room in the Quidditch stadium. Cedric was sitting on a bench across from where he stood, working on removing his dirty boots. Harry had sent him a letter at breakfast explaining about the mysterious Firebolt. Consequently, Cedric asked Harry to meet him later—about an hour—after the Hufflepuff Quidditch practice. The rest of his teammates were gone, allowing Harry to slip freely inside the yellow and black meeting room. A dusty chalkboard was in the background, undoubtedly sporting plays earlier on. Leaning back against the black lockers, Harry breathed in the scent of polish, sweat, and grass inside the room. He loved that smell.

After arriving, Harry could tell Cedric's Prefect side was battling against his Quidditch captain side on the subject of the Firebolt. Prefect ethics supported what Hermione did completely while the Quidditch side felt the burn of irritation of having something as incredible as the Firebolt removed from possession. The conversation died down. Boots off, Cedric turned towards his private locker and yanked the strings tied at the front of his practice robes. They came loose and he unclasped the front, slipping the robe off. Emerald eyes locked on the exposed, glowing back of Cedric Diggory. Muscles rippled there…the Trapezius, the Deltoid, the Serratus anterior…

Harry swallowed and ridded his thoughts of Muggle anatomy. A bead of perspiration ran down the curve of Cedric's spine and disappeared into the band of his pants. The locker room instantly felt much smaller and warmer. Shaky thirteen year old fingers reached up and adjusted the gold and crimson tie at his throat, attempting to breath easier. At the pit of Harry's stomach, a fire burned. Oh hell…

Without warning, Cedric's pants dropped to the floor and Harry's head jerked back against the line of team lockers, helplessly staring at Cedric's firm rear end encased in navy blue boxer briefs. At the sound, the Cedric peered over his shoulder with a quirked eyebrow at the Griffindor. Hazel eyes grew light with amusement—or pleasure—upon noticed the outlined bulge in Harry's jeans. Briefly, he glanced down at himself. He wasn't too dirty and still smelled of his deodorant. That was enough reasoning he inwardly grinned, approaching Harry. The latter looked like a field mouse the way he continued to press himself against the lockers. No words were said at all.

Cedric's mouth came down passionately on Harry's, brushing and crooning the lips open. His hands were pulling the third year's shirt up and fondling his stomach. Overwhelmed with the onslaught of sensations, the raven haired youth writhed against his upperclassman's nearly nude form. His own hands drug a path down exposed, damp pectoral muscles and emerald eyes gazed in fascination at the small, curled patch of golden hairs that grew in between them. Harry noted as his hands moved over Cedric's chest, that his nipples were hard. He brushed over one experimentally and was delighted at the shocked gasp that issued from pale coral lips. The buttons of Harry's school shirt were being opened eagerly and Cedric's slender fingers grazed over his chest. Harry felt his own nipples pinched and a shiver of pleasure snaked down his spine.

His tie was pulled roughly and removed. It was tossed to the side and the older boy wasted no time taking off Harry's outer robe and then his shirt too. Topless now, Harry moaned throatily as Cedric pressed flush against him, kissing his neck. Skin to skin contact. There was nothing to describe the pleasure of feeling another's warmth. Nails dug into the side of Cedric's biceps as the mouth on his neck began sucking enthusiastically. Cedric's hands trailed down his sides, raising goose bumps in their wake.

Harry stilled in shock as he felt hands work his belt open. The clink of metal seemed unnaturally loud in the air and echoed in Harry's ears. The front button of his jeans came undone and the creak of a zipper sang out.

"Harry…you okay…?" asked Cedric, the lust plainly evident in his husky voice.

In shock, the third year didn't respond immediately. His boner cried for relief and if Cedric was offering him a release, sure he was ok with that. But Cedric was nearly naked…and he himself was half way there. As good as it sounded, Harry felt terrified that Cedric may be planning to have sex with him. Harry had heard guys of all ages talk about sex around school. It seemed like the act was such a casual thing; good for both parties involved. But Harry was different from them and completely clueless about gay sex. He'd barely touched his own penis. This was too soon.

"I'm not ready—" he whispered out loud.

Cedric's expression was a mix of worry and surprise. Then it melted away to a gentle smile.

"We aren't going to do it Harry. But I do want to touch you," a low voice cooed into the Griffindor's ear. "And be touched back…"

"O-Okay. Right now?" asked Harry, flustered.

Cedric's clear bell-like laughter rose from him and he pulled Harry close. "Don't worry…" he assured.

Harry was led over to the bench where both he and Cedric straddled it, facing each other. Cedric leaned in and began kissing him again, clearing Harry of his anxieties once more. Gazing down with half lidded eyes, Harry watch Cedric's hands grope his chest some more and explore heated skin. His green orbs took in each flex of fingers, the random freckle, the scar that splayed across two fingers…

The hands fell lower, hesitated, and then the left one dropped to rest on Harry's erection pressing against his boxers. The Griffindor jerked in surprise and a trickle of pleasure blossomed in his crotch. Cedric wasn't looking at him but had a manner of fixed concentration as he slowly pulled away the boxers. Harry turned his eyes away from his member, embarrassment coating his entire being. He felt very exposed but more than that, he felt incredibly aroused. His excitement was clear in his aching hard-on, the tip glistening with a bit of pearly liquid.

A hand closed over him and without thinking, a loud groan peeled from the third year's throat. Harry started panting and placed his hands behind him on the bench to support himself. It was all he could do to stop himself from falling to pieces.

He was being stroked and upon feeling a fierce stare, Harry's glazed eyes lifted to peer into Cedric's. The Hufflepuff's hazel orbs were lit with passion and when their gazes met, his hand's pace quickened. A high whine came from Harry and his eyes slid shut. The third year's fingers gripped either side of the bench so intensely that his knuckles were white. Wave after wave of fire screamed down his spine and built in his core. Gasping sharply, Harry let his head fall back, no longer wanting to exert the effort to hold it up.

Cedric's thumb swept over the head of Harry's erection and ended it. The pleasure peaked and Harry came, hot strips of liquid coating the base of his abdomen and Cedric's own hand. Opening his eyes, Harry in his haze saw Cedric's eyes fixated on the semen coating his hand as if he had never seen it before. As if not thinking, the fifth year wiped his hand on the side of his boxer briefs. Cedric seemed rather overwhelmed and panic flitted through Harry. Was he not supposed to orgasm? Was he supposed to warn Cedric first?

Then Cedric's hand slowly lifted and he used the back of it to wipe a smear of semen from his cheek. Harry's stomach dropped out. He had creamed on Cedric Diggory's face. Fuck. Oh fuck.

"I'm…I'm sorry," said Harry hurriedly, shoving himself back into his pants and zipping up.

An awkward series of rocky laughter came from the fifth year and Harry glanced up reluctantly to see the Hufflepuff beet red in the face.

"You must have been horny," choked Cedric out between laughing, still very red. He was clearly just as embarrassed as his Rune's partner.

"S-Sorry," Harry tried again, gaze descending. Green eyes widened seeing Cedric's own arousal in his boxer briefs. He was still hard, so Harry hadn't killed the mood completely at least. Before he could think twice about it, Harry reached out and touched Cedric's crotch. The latter jumped with surprise before moaning quietly as Harry began to rub the hardness.

"Harry…" Cedric said quietly, almost as if to urge him on.

Unsure of himself, Harry continued his timid ministrations. Could he get Cedric to orgasm too? Doubt laced his insides. What else could he do? In his mind's eye, Harry went back to the time when he was nine and accidentally caught Uncle Vernon watching pornography on the telly. He reminisced back to the lipstick painted lips that plummeted down a swelled cock. Harry's stomach lurched. Oral sex?

Deciding not to talk himself out of it, Harry scooted back and without looking at Cedric, reached into his upperclassman's boxer briefs and removed his erection with a trembling hand. Quite dizzy, Harry stared at it wondering if he could really do this. He was thirteen, another male, and inexperienced. Cedric's entire body was beautiful, even this part. Harry eyed the bush of dark brown pubic hair at the base of Cedric's penis. Nope, there wasn't anything here he didn't like the sight of. So maybe it would taste as good as it looked? Might as well try—

If meaty is a flavor, that would describe the taste of Cedric. Harry didn't take in much, just the head. And that was enough as is. The raven haired boy's tongue curled a bit at the metallic taste coming from the slit. He almost considered pulling away but shaking hands ran into his hair and gripped tightly, pleading silently for Harry to continue. Breathing heavily through his nose, Harry ran his tongue apprehensively under the tip, massaging the ridge he felt there. Cedric was breathing quickly, very quickly, and his hands were still shaking embedded in Harry's ebony locks. Uncertainly, Harry reached forward and held the remainder of the Hufflepuff's stiffened penis in his hand, squeezing gently. The member swelled bigger. After a few moments, Harry began sucking lightly. That seemed to be enough because Cedric's hands twitched in Harry's hair and the latter's mouth was filled with a tangy warmth. He swallowed automatically but his stomach lifted in displeasure afterwards. The bitter after taste in his mouth was strong although Harry felt immense satisfaction flooding through him.

Harry sat up, wiping his mouth. He felt like cum was still on his lips and he wiped at them again. No luck. In front of him, Cedric Diggory sat flushed and sweaty and absolutely gorgeous. Seeing him in the afterglow was worth it, Harry mentally concluded. After a few short minutes, Cedric redressed in his boxer briefs.. His hazel eyes gazed at Harry in shock but something else too. Something unidentifiable.

"That...felt really good. Thank you," he whispered, leaning in and resting his forehead against Harry's.

"N-No problem," said Harry quietly, trying to talk as little as possible. Was it possible to have semen on your breath? He didn't want Cedric smelling that.

Apparently Cedric didn't give a damn because he kissed Harry, sliding his tongue into the younger boy's mouth. They remained that way—as they had the last time they'd been intimate—and continued to kiss. When they broke apart, Cedric suggested they get dressed and head back to the castle. He went and retrieved Harry's shirt, tie, and robe for him, chuckling as he commented on how they were messy this time around. Handing the clothes to Harry, Cedric opened his locker and took out his own school clothes. To Harry's surprise, Cedric bent down and pressed a tender kiss to his temple. Harry's face heated up in response. Two green eyes watched Cedric dress himself before switching his attention to his own clothing.

They walked up to the castle and if it were a perfect world, Harry felt as though he would be holding hands with Cedric right now. Shaking that desire from his mind, Harry told himself to be happy with what he had. And he was indeed happy. Another rush of dizziness like earlier seized him unexpectedly and he hit the ground hard, seeing stars. He was vaguely aware of Cedric calling his name as his vision cleared. But another voice was also in his mind. A different timbre altogether saying,

"About time you visited me. I've been waiting a long time,"

----

Well…another chapter finished. Didn't get this out as soon as I hoped but I should have expected as much with the holidays. Hope you enjoyed. TTFN


	14. Murmuring Memoirs

Ok it was brought to my attention for the first time of my misspellings of Riddikulus & Dursley. Thank you SanityIsNotStatistical = ). I apologize if I've irritated readers with these mistakes and if any more crop up (which wouldn't surprise me X_X haha) please feel free to write me about it.

For everyone who has continued reading, thank you

--Jack

Chapter 14: Murmuring Memoirs

When Harry awoke, he found himself not in the Hospital Wing, nor in his own bed. Not even somewhere near Cedric. No, upon creaking open his eyelids, the Boy Who Lived was met with an unfamiliar ceiling. For a moment, he took in the eggnog colored tiles, counting them without thinking. He reached thirteen before a voice cut through the air.

"Ah…conscious at last," the voice said cheerily, forcing the third year old to shift his gaze sharply to his right.

Perched gracefully on the desk with his ankles crossed was the auburn haired boy Harry had dreamed of previously. He was wearing sleek black robes and from this angle, Harry could see the young man's hair was longer than he thought, tied back in an unkempt ponytail. Icy blue eyes sparkled mischievously and full lips curved into a secretive smile.

"Who are you? Where's Cedric? Where am I?" Harry demanded in quick succession, sitting up quickly. The movement brought a sickening wave of nausea over him and Harry swayed, trying to keep his last meal down.

"I hadn't considered the magic having any possible side effects…whoops. No matter, you seem healthy enough. What's your name again?"

Green eyes narrowed in a hazy glare at the pretty boy sitting five feet from him.

"…James," Harry mumbled, frowning.

"James is a lovely name. I believe the time has come for me to show you why you're here. Scoot over, I'm coming to join you." With that, the boy popped off the desk and glided over towards Harry who was scrambling to make room on the tiny twin bed. Long legs and slender arms crawled deftly over the quilted comforter and the nameless adolescent seated himself next to Harry. "Watch there…" he whispered. His narrow arm lifted, a bony finger pointing at the doorway. Two people burst into the room in a flurry of dark cloth. The door slammed shut and the smaller of the two figures shoved the other person against the closed entryway. Pinned against the door was none other than the young man seated next to Harry. The raven haired youth did a double take to make sure the kid was still next to him. He was. Harry couldn't see who the other person was; their hood was up and concealing them. However, it was unmistakably male when a deep voice began shouting,

"What do you mean you can't do it anymore?"

Harry watched as the two blue eyes belonging to the boy he knew grew cold and the pupils shrunk.

"It means exactly what it sounds like!" the auburn haired male hissed back.

"Damn it!" snarled the other, who then pressed forward roughly. Harry's emerald orbs flew wide when a soft moan flitted past parted lips. A gloved hand from the hidden figure raked into the Titian hair and yanked the tie holding the ponytail.

Harry swallowed thickly, seeing the released hair cascade down about the boy's thin shoulders and splay out against the wooden door behind him. Indigo eyes were misted over and a slight flush lit high cheekbones.

"Please…"

What the auburn haired boy was pleading for exactly Harry wasn't sure.

"Tell me you'll continue with our work. We've almost perfected Atrumodium," the other male purred and Harry watched one of the ebony gloves slide into rosy locks.

"It's…becoming too dangerous,"

"Oh don't start with that again. You're too soft. Give me what I want, and I'll give you what you want,"

Harry gazed as the smaller boy pressed his body more firmly against the other's once more. The latter's face was contorted in the effort not to make any noise.

"A-Alright,"

Suddenly the two figures dissolved and disappeared, leaving a bewildered Harry Potter gaping at the spot they just stood in seconds ago. He turned to the young man next to him to see a mild frown on his face. Running a distracted, bony finger over his temple, he turned to Harry and offered another of his mysterious smiles.

"I didn't introduce myself yet. I'm—"

Harry shot up as if ice water had been dumped on him. Through his vision, he could make out the dark outlines of familiar beds. He was in the Hospital Wing. Groping for his glasses, the Griffindor's shaky fingers found and slipped them onto his face. On the opposite wall, a clock hung and read two in the morning. A quivering groan escaped him and Harry brought his hands up to his face, rubbing it fiercely. He had another strange dream. Why was he in the Hospital Wing. And what happened to Cedric? The answers, he knew, would have to wait until morning. Later, that morning that is. Carefully, Harry lowered himself back onto the bed and sighed as his head met a squishy pillow. He had a spitting headache accompanied by the ghost of a very strange smile.

Harry was released in time for classes the next morning. Madam Pomfrey documented his reason for being in the Hospital Wing as, 'A case of exhaustion. Get more sleep Potter'. She apparently believed he collapsed from lack of sleep, perhaps with a combination of stress. If only it were that simple. A quick stop at Griffindor Tower allowed Harry to pick up his bag and books so he could attend classes prepared. Walking into Ancient Runes ten minutes late, Harry dropped his doctor's note on Professor Wicket's desk. The Professor didn't even cast the paper a glance but continued to scrawl out a web demonstrating the transformations of basic Viking Runes over a one thousand year period. Taking his seat beside a relieved looking Cedric Diggory, Harry pulled out his textbook despairingly, the weight of his dream burdening his conscious.

"You ok Harry?" whispered his Rune's partner urgently. Hesitantly, green eyes flicked over to peer into a troubled hazel gaze.

"I need to talk to you," Harry whispered back, brows furrowing. Cedric nodded his consent.

"I need to talk to you too," he returned, with a hint of excitement in his voice.

Judging by the atmosphere coming off of the Hufflepuff—it was creepily similar to his friend Hermione's—Harry could interpret the news as academic related. What Cedric would have to tell him about schoolwork was beyond Harry's scope of understanding at this point. Bringing his elbow up onto the table, the raven haired boy rested his head onto his open palm, and began to take notes.

* * *

Between Hermione dashing up to him distraught after class asking about his collapse to Ron cornering him in the hallway on his way to Potions, Harry thought he might really collapse under the drama. The only one level headed about his fainting spell was Cedric. Of course, Cedric had a moment of panic after a particular Quidditch match…

Potions was nastier than usual and not because of the smell of burnt peas in the dungeon or the surplus grime that seemed to be coating his cauldron. The Syltherins, headed by Draco Malfoy, were giving a show about Harry's fainting spell. Their outtake on the situation is that a Dementor came across the Griffindor's path and he fainted from fear. And that the valiant goody-goody Hufflepuff Diggory had to carry Potter to safety. Harry was amazed at how fast news flew through a place as big as Hogwarts and turned into twisted rumors. On the other hand, Harry was partially grateful to Malfoy for bringing up the subject of Dementors because he made a mental note to remind Cedric to train with him on the Patronus Charm. Harry almost hit himself for feeling even remotely grateful towards Malfoy. Maybe he really was exhausted.

The end of the day arrived and the Boy Who Lived had never been more grateful for the last series of bells. He was more than ready for dinner and just wanted to do some homework so he could go to bed early. So when the handsome owl Harry knew belonged to Cedric swooped down in front of his supper plate, the third year felt a surge of disappointment. He enjoyed Cedric—and his company—immensely, however, he hoped to talk to him tomorrow so he could try and relax tonight. Obviously that wasn't going to happen. Harry couldn't imagine saying 'no' to Cedric and what the older boy's reaction would be to the rejection. Shaking his head, Harry pulled off the rolled parchment and unfurled it gently. For the first time in regular English letters, Cedric had written,

_The Library an hour before curfew sound good?_

Morosely, Harry turned and nodded in Cedric's vague direction, uncaring of whether the boy noticed or not. Why was he feeling so sour? It couldn't just be the lack of peace of mind could it? Deciding it hurt too much to think, Harry placed all his mental processes on the back burner and picked up his fork.

The table's candles were lit when Harry arrived, casting a golden glow over the oak wood. The Griffindor halted in horror seeing the books Cedric had strewn over the table.

"Harry, I've managed to break the codes and I've translated some of them!" exclaimed Cedric in obvious joy. His charismatic hands lifted the huge packet of parchment and shook them at the Boy Who Lived. "They're spells Harry! These are un-registered charms, hexes, and curses! Whoever wrote all of these…was…was a genius!!"

Harry had never seen Cedric coming undone at the seams like this before. His normally pristine hair was ruffled and there was a gleam of sweat on his forehead. Harry was reminded of Cedric's ambition as both a student and as a wizard upon taking in his appearance. "Seriously Harry, these aren't even natural seeming spells. You have to have unusual amounts of concentration and emotion to cast them. Especially this one… Atrumodium…Harry this seems—"

"Stop Cedric. That is dangerous," the third year interrupted, snatching the papers out of the Hufflepuff's grasp. Cedric looked as though he was going to say something snippy back but his maturity level toned his temper.

"How do you know?" he asked evenly, crossing his arms.

Frowning, Harry hugged the papers to his chest and let his gaze wander.

"This is what I needed to talk to you about. See…ever since we started working on this project…I've been getting strange dreams. This bloke talks to me in them and he's a bit loopy, but…I think he's the one who wrote all this stuff. When I collapsed yesterday, I had another dream of him but...this time he showed me something. Like a memory, I think. That's how I know that spell is dangerous. The guy who made it said so himself."

Concern washed over Cedric's face at Harry's words and he stepped out from behind the table.

"Why haven't you told me before now?" he asked in a stern voice. Harry glanced up at him, surprised.

"I…I didn't think their was any reason to,"

"Harry!" Cedric admonished.

Sheepishly, the Griffindor rubbed the back of his neck with a free hand. The candlelight flickering over Cedric's face cast half the older boy's face in shadow. He looked quite grim.

"You know how serious this is, right Harry? I wonder if we should go to a Professor with this…"

Mutedly, Harry shook his head. All his life he had never relied on adults. Any and all of his problems were his own burdens and not meant to be shared with others. Adults befuddled situations because they were governed by systems and by rules. Harry couldn't help but operate best under the caress of subtle anarchy. In three years of being at Hogwarts, Harry had broken more rules than the average student, his arse being pardoned only because of the extremity of the circumstances in which the rules were broken. A lot of his rule breaking went undocumented as well.

Fingers ran down Harry's cheek, successfully drawing attention. Emerald orbs lifted to meet a hazel stare.

"We are not telling a Professor. Not yet. If anything…we'll go to Professor Dumbledore if I have another dream…"

"Are you sure we should wait that long?" said Cedric, stricken. The pads of his fingertips scraped against the third year's skin in a delicate twitch.

"Yes. Now how much have you figured out of this mess?"

Cedric peaked over his shoulder at the scattered papers and pile of hefty books. He bit his lip briefly and turned his eyes to the stone floor. Quirking his eyebrow, Harry prodded Cedric in the chest.

"Erm…a third. I've finished a third."

"A bloody third? Since when?"

"Since last night. I…couldn't sleep,"

At these words, Cedric blushed and refused to meet Harry's gaze. His embarrassment was nearly palpable in the air around them. The younger of the two boys came to realize Cedric was up last night with worry. And like the good academic he was, Cedric hit the books to distract himself and in his frenzy, completed a third of a task deemed impossible by the Ministry of Magic. Harry gaped at him, which Cedric interpreted as an invitation to dive in for a quick kiss.

* * *

A week went by uneventfully. Harry and his Rune partner were working on their project individually. Harry was both shocked and pleased when he was able to translate the first page of the red book he was assigned. Truly, the book was more like a diary than anything else. After his encounter with a dark and powerful diary last year, he felt naturally wary about fiddling around with this one.

Sitting at a table in the common room, Harry adjusted his candle slightly, hissing as hot wax leaked onto his hand. Tearing the wax off didn't hurt nearly as bad as being touched by it initially. His fingers brushed over a rough patch of skin and Harry noticed that he had come into contact with the scars from his burn months ago. A vague smile drifted over his lips as he gazed down at the patch of skin. Maybe it was morbid to think was happy to have a permanent marking from Cedric but as he ran his finger gingerly over the old wound, a swell of emotions flooded him.

Returning to the diary he was translating, Harry picked up his spare parchment and his quill. So far, the diary entry read:

_Life is so dreary since I've left behind the stonewalls that I truly think of as…_

_Home._

_Here I'm…trapped. _

Harry dipped his quill into the nearby jar of ink and concentrated on the next line.

_A boy moved into the neighborhood. _

_He carries a strange feeling in the air around him and I can't help but be attracted to it. He himself is beautiful, with locks of gold and meadow green eyes. If only he'd smile more. Though perhaps he has no reason to. As I have no reason to._

Harry was torn between being intrigued by the writings or finding them depressing. He knew the writer was male and most likely gay. This gave them common ground; a mutual understanding and tastes. Laying down his quill, he stretched his arms above his head. Suddenly a voice whispered inside his mind gently,

"Not yet. Keep reading,"

Obediently, Harry stared at the diary as the pages began flipping forward of their own accord and a sense of extreme déjà vu overwhelmed him. They stopped and automatically, Harry scanned the Runes on the page.

_Is it wrong of me to find the force appealing? The way I was shoved against my door was…enticing. However, I'm no fool. Gellert's colors are coming through. If he wishes to use my genius and works to hurt people without true justice, I can't comply. I understand now he only gave his body to me in return for my own cooperation. Perhaps because I've only realized this now, I am indeed a blithering fool._

_I must find the end to this._

Reminiscent of his second year, Harry saw the pages glow and the sensation of the floor dropping out from beneath him came. Clamping his eyes shut, Harry fell into the surrounding darkness that blossomed around him until he hit a soft bed. Cracking his eyes open once more, he looked into twinkling blue irises.

"You're back. Let's continue,"

Before Harry could protest the young man sitting across from him on the desk flipped his hair over his shoulder and beamed at him.

"My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,"

* * *

Ah so much plot content in this chapter. Well, it must be built. I hope everyone is following the story (as much as I'm allowing them to). = ) Thank you everyone for your reviews. For everyone who has Messaged me this month, it was been quite a delight making new friends and talking with you all. And because I'm new at posting here on ...haha...I just figured out the giant line to separate areas of the chapter! I was way too excited figuring out something so....painfully simple. Na ja. haha


	15. Taciturn Teenager

To everyone who has continued reading and had so much patience—thanks.

FYI: College is a bitch.

* * *

Chapter 15: Taciturn Teenager

Pale pink lips remained parted in utter shock for quite a while. It took the pad of a slender white finger pressing underneath Harry's chin for him to finally close his mouth.

"D-Dumbledore?" he squeaked hoarsely, eyes roaming over the older boy's lithe form.

The young man addressed swept his long bangs back with a lazy gesture.

"Yes?" he answered, unconcerned.

"Wha…How…Why…" stammered Harry.

"James," began Albus, slipping off the bed. "Follow me,"

The redhead exited the room and it took Harry a moment to remember he had told…his _headmaster_…that is name was James. Hopping of the small bed—which squeaked angrily as he did—Harry glided over to the door after Albus. The raven haired youth found himself in a narrow, crooked hallway. The wallpaper was stained in some areas and torn bad enough to reveal old, flaky glue behind it on dark wood. Each step he took on the floor raised a plume of dust from the dated carpet.

"Profess—I mean, um, Albus? Where are you?" called Harry awkwardly, wrinkling his nose as he inhaled some unwanted dust. Harry stopped half way down the hall and sneezed. Cheery laughter echoed off the walls and the third year followed it into a small room at the end. Albus stooped slightly in a room that reminded Harry of his broom cupboard back at Privet Drive. The small space was slightly larger than his cupboard and wasn't as dusty as the hallway but had several stacked trunks and shelves lining the limited wall space. A variety of bottles filled with colored liquids decorated those shelves and a couple of them had bubbles that rose and fell ominously inside, reminiscent of Muggle lava lamps.

"Welcome to my study," whispered Albus fondly, ushering to a trunk Harry could sit on. Harry did so and continued to gaze around the room. "This is where we conduct research. I brought you here to share my secrets with. I know you did not wish to be sucked into my memories but please understand…"

Albus trailed off at that point, his expression dim. Harry stared at Dumbledore's young blue eyes as they drifted about the room, locking on various objects of interest. Finally, they settled on Harry's forest green orbs.

"Understand what, sir?" asked Harry politely, already forgetting the Albus in front of him wasn't his headmaster.

A copper eyebrow twitched in subtle bemusement and Albus leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His hands came together in a steeple in front of him.

"Understand…that I need a friend."

It was a simple, demanding, surprising, and sad confession. Sitting in front of Harry was not the leader of the wizarding world but a lonely, young man. Despite all his brilliance, he remained locked up inside this decomposing house without any company it seemed.  
"How is it that I'm here...Albus?" asked Harry softly, trying to adjust to the name and sliding his tennis shoes back and forth across the floor.

"A spell I created. I bound it to my journal. No one can just come into my memories. I made very specific requirements,"

"What kind of requirements?"

A shrill scream shredded throughout the papery walls of the house and was accompanied by a series of crashes. Albus flew out of his seat and was through the door before Harry had time to cover his ears. The world—Albus' memories—were swirling before him in a dingy wash.

Harry awoke to the strangest scratching sensation. A prickly heat was being drug over and over the side of his face. He groaned, wanting to turn over but finding he had no strength. The sensation continued, this time followed by a rumbling purr. Cracking a green eye open, Harry peered up into the bushy face of Crookshanks, Hermione's cat. The feline's textured tongue was partly sticking out from the bundle of orange fur that made up its head. One obscene drop of saliva was dangling from his pink tongue, waiting for gravity to claim it. It splashed down on Harry's cheek before the Griffindor could escape.

"Gah…Crookshanks…disgusting…" Harry spat, finally managing to sit up. He wiped furiously at his face with the sleeve of his robe. Crookshanks hissed at him and bounded off around the corner.

* * *

"Bloody hell Harry. You look…like shit,"

Cedric's words described how Harry felt, as well as the way he looked. The night after his last encounter inside the diary, Harry couldn't get any sleep. Hunched over the Ancient Runes worktable he shared with Cedric, he wondered mildly if there were bags under his eyes. Professor Wicket didn't notice Harry's lack of participation in class. Cedric completed the assignment on his own and turned the scroll in with both his and Harry's names on it. The raven haired third year gazed gratefully at the Hufflepuff as he reclaimed the stool next to him. It came as a shock to Harry, that as he stared absentmindedly at Cedric Diggory's face, he began to daydream about kissing him. Harry flushed brightly and nestled his head into his arms on the table to hide the blush. He really needed to get some more sleep.

"I want to see you tonight…in private," whispered Cedric, putting his school materials away in his bag.

Cedric's words did not help and Harry's imagination took a turn for the worse. He couldn't stop the arousal his mind was building. Thankful for his muggle jeans beneath the Hogwart's robe, the Griffindor shifted uncomfortably.

"I dunno if that is the greatest idea…." Harry mumbled, drowning in self-loathing for his lack of control.

"Why?" asked his Rune's partner, sounding confused and a bit hurt.

Harry wanted to clamp his legs together tight and will everything that existed below is beltline away. After a few unsuccessful wishes, Harry decided to sneak a peak at Cedric who was staring hard at him. "Harry, have you been having….problems with the journal again?"

"Problems?" repeated Harry, breathlessly. "No, not at all."

"I think it is beginning to effect your health Harry. We need to talk to a Professor."

Even in the quietness of Cedric's voice, Harry could hear the urgency of his words. How was Harry supposed to tell him it was Dumbledore's journal? The ministry obviously didn't know to whom the books belonged. Curiosity for the Headmaster Harry idolized was driving him to discover more. Perhaps it was wrong for Harry to be diving into Dumbledore's adolescence and private affairs but he didn't want to stop. He wasn't going to stop. There was more to be known, more secrets to divulge.

"No. Please believe me Cedric. It is important for me to continue working with the journal. Trust me…"

Cedric's hazel eyes softened and warmed over. Deep inside, Harry felt as through Cedric was longing to reach out and touch his face; to run long fingers through his ebony locks.

"I will. In return, meet me tonight in the library at one."

Harry gulped at the demand.

"Sure…?"

* * *

There are no words to describe the happiness Harry felt when McGonagall called him to her office at midday. Her lips were pursed and her brows were furrowed but she handed over Harry's firebolt with a nod.

"No jinxes, hexes, curses, spells, or charms. Clean as it can be. Enjoy this mystery gift Mr. Potter," she said stiffly.

Grinning broadly, Harry took the broom and grasped it appreciatively. As he made his way out of the office, McGonagall called out to him,

"And Mr. Potter, be sure…to win lots of Quidditch games with that broom for Griffindor."

Harry flashed a big smile at his Head of House and quickly left the office to share the news with Ron and Hermione. At lunch Harry got his chance to tell his best friends about having his broom returned to him. Ron was ecstatic, Hermione wary.

"I don't know Harry," Hermione began with that tone she always got when she was more teacher-like than student. "I trust the Professors to examine the broom thoroughly but they could have missed something. You don't even know who sent it to you!"

Harry shrugged and continued to beam down at the polished shaft of the Firebolt. It couldn't have been Black who had sent him the broom because it wasn't jinxed or anything. Whoever had sent the broom to him was wonderful. Seamus and Dean were talking broom statistics excitedly from across the table. Apparently the Firebolt ranked the top of every broom chart for speed, accuracy, efficiency, control, and durability. Oh, and it was very expensive. Lunch was especially tasty that afternoon and Harry's mood was jubilant. Harry had caught Draco's jealous glare from across the Great Hall. For the moment, Harry had forgot the journal experiences and his stressful Runes project. The only thing on his mind was flying his new broom and meeting Cedric that night.

* * *

Harry had to admit his eyelids dropped a little bit as he made his way into the library at one in the morning. Occasionally on his walk over, Harry would lose concentration and the Invisibility Cloak would slip off one shoulder and expose him. Twenty feet from the entryway, he had also nearly walked through the Bloody Baron. At the back of the library, the sleepy Griffindor found Cedric perched on their dusty table, lit only by moonlight. Having the sliver light reflect off of the handsome Hufflepuff was enough to make Harry wake up and have his groin stir. Ashamed of his sexual urges, Harry remained under the Invisibility Cloak longer than he had to, waiting for his unruly body to calm down. When it had, Harry removed the cloak, folded it, and placed the material inside his book bag.

Cedric's sandy brown hair fell across his eyes slightly as he looked up and saw Harry. His expression was relaxed but his aura was strange. The feeling in the air around them was prickling over Harry's skin, forcing his breathing to quicken a little. A minute passed without Cedric saying a thing so Harry approached him. He may have been losing his mind but Harry couldn't deny he wanted something from Cedric. Something he wasn't entirely ready to ask for but wanted nonetheless. The desire was dancing through his veins, raising the hairs on his skin, and making the room seem hotter than it should. And that's when Harry kissed Cedric.

There was a soft moan of surprise or perhaps of approval that reached Harry's ears. Strong hands came to grip his waist and there was the sharp pinch of nails digging into the third year's skin. Their pace of lips quickened and Cedric pulled Harry closer. A slick tongue slid over Harry's urgent one and both shivered. After a moment, the kiss was broken and the two boys stared breathlessly at each other.

"You're turning into quite the sneak," teased Harry, offering a crooked smile. "Calling me out all hours of the night, sneaking us into the lib—"

Harry was caught off by lips pressing on the hollow of his throat. He shuddered.

"Cedr—" he tried but then lips trailed down to the nape and teeth bit down harshly.

A jolt Harry had never experienced before raced through his body and down below, his core swelled. He almost made to cry out but a calloused hand covered his mouth, muffling him. A tongue lapped at the bite mark, as if to sooth it. Against Harry's hip, he could feel Cedric's hardness pushing against their mashed robes unabashedly.

The fifth year was much more physically open than Harry was apparently. He wasn't shy about showing his need or desire when they were alone. Harry wondered briefly if this was due to a sexual maturity gap. The memory of Cedric kissing the blonde Ravenclaw girl flashed through Harry's mind and left him a bit turned-off. This was erased as Cedric's teeth grazed his collarbone. Harry's neckline felt a lot more free and he suddenly realized his tie was off and three buttons were undone on his shirt. Cedric's lips were suckling on his skin leaving a damp, heated trail in their wake. Harry's breath was wheezy with lust.

"And you Harry…are turning into quite the pervert," said Cedric softly, eyes sweeping over Harry's heated body. His words embarrassed the raven haired boy.

"So?" muttered Harry defensively.

Cedric shrugged and began leaning in for more sweet kisses when he paused.

"Blast, before I lose control of myself, we have to do what we originally came here for," he said gruffly, looking moody with himself for having to quit.

"This isn't what we came here to do?" asked Harry, before he thought about what he was saying.

Cedric's chuckle echoed loudly off the dirty bookshelves.

"No. Come with me Harry."

With that command, Harry's hand was grabbed and he was being pulled out of the library. The Griffindor only barely managed to snag his backpack. Through the commotion Harry couldn't help but enjoy the butterflies raging in his gut. The hand Cedric was holding was beginning to sweat and skin tingled. Harry's mind swirled momentarily and for a second, he saw the image of young Albus perched on the desk of that crummy room, twisting a slender lock of copper around a bony finger. Blue eyes turned toward him but then the Griffindor was jerked sharply around a corner.

"Stairs here," whisped Cedric in warning.

Despite being told this, Harry still tripped up the first step. And then they arrived at the door the led into a medium sized chamber. Back against the wall, a trunk was slamming and creaking against the wall of the castle. The chains wrapped around it sent Harry coldly back to night where he'd laid on dusty floor staring up at his vicious double.

"Surprise! I found the Boggart Harry," Cedric beamed, tossing his hair out from his eyes. "And tonight, you begin training for the Patronus Charm!"

Harry gulped and stared at the trembling trunk that contained his worst nightmare--well--something that could turn into his worst nightmare at least. He was most certainly not ready for this "training session". All he was ready for was a good snog, maybe a grope or two, and then to crawl into bed to catch a few hours sleep. The Griffindor tilted his head to meet Cedric's excited gaze. Something was telling Harry that Cedric had broken more rules this year with him than the he had in his entire life combined. Not only that, but the rule breaking they were getting into gave Cedric some kind of dangerous thrill. The gleam was a bit too mischievous in the Hufflepuff's eyes. But Harry didn't really have a choice. He was the one who had asked Cedric to help him learn to repel Dementors.

"When I open the trunk, think only of good, happy memories and cast the spell 'Expecto Patronum'. Understand?"

Wait. No special wand flicking requirements? No specific inflection of the words? Harry remember Charms class his first year where Ron couldn't use the Levitation charm because of the way he moved his wand. Was Cedric rushing into this? There was a swish of air caused by Cedric's wand whipping out and pointing at the trunk. The chains shattered allowing the lid to burst open and out from the darkness of the container rose the being Harry most feared. The decaying robes drifted in a non-existent wind and each breath the creature took rattled ominously in its throat. The Dementor floated over the trunk and towards Harry. The third year couldn't remember the Cedric's instructions any longer and instead, listened to the sound of that dreadful scream filling his ears. All was black.

Harry woke up with the back of his head aching. He was lying on the floor and the Dementor--Boggart-was no where to be seen. Cedric hovered close instead, a bit pale, and pressed something firm to Harry's lips.

"Eat," he whispered, pressing again.

The raven haired boy obediently opened his mouth and ate whatever Cedric was feeding him. It turned out to be chocolate and Harry managed to give the Hufflepuff next to him a quizzical look.

"Sugar, Harry, helps fend off the symptoms Dementors can leave behind. It'll build your strength back up and give you energy. Actually, any candy would do the same but I figured you didn't need Lickerish Snaps nipping at your tongue while you're all disorientated," grinned Cedric slightly.

"I need you nipping at my tongue," said Harry without a second thought.

There was a long cessation between them as Cedric recovered from shock and Harry realized what exactly he had just said. The third year remained motionless with his eyes clamped shut hoping that he really hadn't just blurted that thought out loud. His self-control was abysmal today. A warm, heavy heat was suddenly pressing down on his torso and Harry's eyes flew open to meet lusty hazel ones.

"Seems we can't keep our horomones in check today," said Cedric huskily, rolling his hips down onto his underclassman's without hesitation. "You want this as bad as me?"

Whatever 'this' was Harry wanted it. It didn't matter that he didn't completely understand their touches. It didn't matter how sexually immature he might be or whatever his and Cedric's sexuality was. All that mattered was the sensations and heat Cedric gave him felt good and that he could give it back. Harry twitched his hips up into Cedric's crotch. The fifth year's head fell back and a sigh fell past full lips. Harry did it again and Cedric's second reaction was a low moan. Harry's erection stiffened further.

They were kissing fiercely when sounds outside the door brought them to a halt. Scrambling up they adjusted their robes and stood together in the darkest corner of the room. Harry's bag was there and the raven haired boy stooped quickly to pull out his father's cloak. He had just covered himself and Cedric when the door cracked open. A lit lantern entered the room first, followed by a dirty man, and finally a mangy cat. Filch stood there peering suspiciously about the room, turning the lantern this way and that. Muttering under his breath, Filch left with Mrs. Norris. The boys remained where they were and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Looks like we need to find somewhere private," mumbled Harry, semi-jokingly.

"I know somewhere private..." answered Cedric in complete seriousness.

* * *

Well...it's been three months since I updated. Not that I hadn't wanted to or lost interest but because of damnable school. I sometimes wonder why I pay 40 grand a year to get up early, suffer from stress, and work for a career America's crappy economy can't offer. ~_~ Spring break is this Friday so I'll be able to write some more. Yay. And relax. Can't forget the relaxing part.


	16. The Serious Slipups of Seduction

For everyone who has stuck with me so far, thank you. --Jack

* * *

Chapter 16: The Serious Slip-ups of Seduction

_I know somewhere private_. Those words—surprisingly adult sounding—sent a thrill through Harry. Cedric's hazel eyes were practically gleaming in the dark, like a cat's. Wordlessly, he took Harry's hand once again and led him out of the room. The raven haired Griffindor lost track of which floor they were on and how many hallways they had turned down. They came to a statue of Boris the Bewildered (Harry only knew this due to the name plate drilled into the base of the craft). There was a door next to the statue that Cedric faced and said clearly,

"Apple-mint sprigs,"

The door gave a sigh and swung open. As the two boys stepped into the dark abyss, candles began to light themselves into tiny bursts of sparks until the entire chamber was lit. Their flames threw streams of golden light across the most enormous bathtub Harry had ever seen. Multitudes of spouts and faucets were around the tub and Harry watched in awe as Cedric stooped next to a few, turning them on. The first issued turquoise and navy blue bubbles, the second some shimmering water, the third, some pink liquid. Harry moved over to a free spout and twisted it. Out from the opening burst a mixture of sea green foam and water. He looked up at Cedric in delight.

What he saw was Cedric pulling his tie away from his throat before it was promptly deposited onto the floor in a heap of gold and black. Next, the buttons of the Hufflepuff's school shirt were popped open to reveal his Quidditch chiseled chest. Harry swallowed, his emerald orbs watching the shirt's slow progression down muscular arms as it fell to the ground in soft whoosh on top of the robe that had already been removed while Harry wasn't looking. The third year's pupils contracted, focusing on each shimmer of candlelight that flickered over the silver of Cedric's belt buckle as it was unfastened. The belt was pulled from the belt loops excruciatingly slowly. Harry swallowed. Clearly seen through the black slacks Cedric wore was the outline of his arousal and the Hufflepuff seemed to bare no embarrassment about showing it. The belt hit the floor and the resulting sound echoed off the stonewalls quite loudly.

Harry was barely aware that he was panting. His heart rate had risen significantly and he remained frozen, squatting next to the faucet that spurted foamy water. The candlelight glimmered off of Cedric's skin, some larger droplets of sweat near his collar bone reflecting brighter than the rest of his skin. Hazel eyes were half lidded, sandstone lips flushed into a satiny pale rose. The Griffindor was shaking, whether from nervousness or desire he was unclear of. Perhaps both.

Pants were being fiddled with. Cedric's thumb slid over the hem and then he unhooked his slacks. The zipper was pulled down revealing just over the top of black boxer briefs some dark pubic curls. Harry rocked unsteadily and lamely fell back on his rear end. Cedric, unfazed, allowed his pants to slide down his toned thighs, over his calves, finally coming into a pool of black material on his feet. He stepped out of them and approached Harry, prettier and more perfect than Adonis.

Harry said nothing as he was pushed gently back and Cedric straddled him. The tile was hard beneath Harry's head but he didn't care. His greens eyes traced the fifth year's every movement as his hands trailed down Harry's chest to grasp the clasp of his robe. It was opened and stripped off him gently. Harry's gaze stayed downcast as each button of his shirt was snapped open and the material separated to reveal his rosy, erected nipples. He shivered as the cloth brushed over them. Contrary to what he was expecting, Harry watched Cedric's hands slide down towards his pants instead of removing his tie. In a few short moments they were tugged off, along with his underwear. The Griffindor blushed dark in his cheeks, squirming a bit.

Cedric reached behind him and took off Harry's shoes but his hazel eyes remained fixated of Harry's stiff erection. When the feet were free, Cedric's full attention turned towards the trembling third year below him. His hands caught Harry's, lifting them and pinning them above his head. The raven haired boy's chest rose and fell rapidly with excitement and his gaze never left Cedric. Leaning down, the Hufflepuff seeker ran the tip of his tongue along Harry's jawline, eliciting a sharp gasp from the boy below him. As if he were a puppet on invisible strings, Harry's body arched up and his head tilted back. Black lashes shuddered shut and his lips parted in another gasp; silent this time. Seemingly pleased, Cedric continued lips caressing Harry's neck, collarbone, and back up to his cheek. Then their lips connected and a heat Harry never imagined filled him up from his toes to the crown of his head. A hot, slick tongue was sliding over Harry's, rubbing and massaging, swirling around to taste every inch of his mouth. The kissing felt wonderful and Harry forgot he was naked. He forgot the cold, hard tile he laid on. All he knew was Cedric's mouth on his and the delicious heat that was permeating his body.

Teeth drug along the nape of his neck—there was a sharp bite—and then sucking. A calloused hand trapped both of Harry's, allowing the free one to explore exposed territory. The hand clawed it's way over Harry's chest, paused to toy with a nipple, finally lowering to slide a path over Harry's shaking thigh. Fingers gripped and pulled at the skin, making Harry shiver and clamp his eyes shut. Lips came to his again and Harry pulled away his trapped hands to embrace Cedric Diggory. He wrapped his arms tight around the fifth year's broad shoulders and kept him close. He felt himself opening like a flower at dawn; one petal folding back after another to let in welcomed sunlight—warmth—to reveal his sweet core to the sky.

Cedric moved awkwardly for a second and Harry cracked open an eye to see he had removed his underwear. Harry's penis pulsed thickly while he gazed at his nude Runes partner. He was beautiful.

Then Cedric's golden brown head was lowering and Harry could only stare confused until sudden warmth engulfed him.

"Oh god," he hissed, legs jerking and his hands flying to grasp Cedric's head.

His fingers convulsed and then gripped Cedric's locks roughly. The heat went further down his hard cock and Harry could feel Cedric's tongue swirling over the tip. A pressure stirred low in Harry's loins but he ignored it. He wanted this to last. It had to. Cedric's mouth felt too good for him to lose complete control. Harry's cock was neither grossly huge nor tiny, but a size that could be considered, 'just above average', and Cedric accepted the challenge of swallowing him whole.

Harry did not know the term deep-throating, but he was experiencing it. His eyes nearly rolled back into his head and he cried out, unabashedly. He allowed Cedric to spread his legs further. Then his balls were being rolled gently in Cedric's hand. Digging his fingernails into the tile, Harry moaned deeply, turning his head to the side.

Cedric came up from his task—much to Harry's disappointment—and began kissing him again. Harry quickly became enthusiastic about their renewed make out session and tossed his arms about the fifth year's neck again. Cedric bit Harry's lip playfully and in return, the younger boy dragged his nails down the Hufflepuff's back. Cedric groaned appreciatively and Harry briefly wondered if he had left red markings.

Leaning up Harry spread kisses along Cedric's chest. He lapped delicately at the firm skin, moving over to a nipple and claiming it in his lips. He sucked lightly, earning a soft sigh of pleasure. A hand trailed down Harry's arm and over his side. Harry tilted his head up and closed his eyes; a wordless request for another kiss, which he indeed received. Cedric's hips pushed down into his and their erections brushed. Both boys shuddered and the older one of the two reached down and grabbed the arousals with one hand. Holding them together, he thrust his hips back and forth, grinding his cock against Harry's. The latter practically mewled. Harry didn't resist the urge to toss his head back once again and he let cry after cry pass his lips, not caring what he sounded like. Cedric too, was moaning long and hard, and occasional grunt escaped him with the effort of keeping his hips thrusting a quick, steady motion.

A sensation Harry recognized was building rapidly and he reached out, gripping Cedric's upper arms to convey the message. His mouth was permanently open, trying to let in the oxygen his body demanded. Underneath his palms, biceps rippled in the endeavor of keeping Cedric Diggory upright. Hazel met green and locked. Cedric's hips bucked in an uncontrolled rhythm and Harry felt himself melting from the head downward as his blood drained. The raven haired boy's nails buried themselves firmly into Cedric's skin. Harry blinked as several droplets of sweat rained down on him as the golden brown head shook with desire. Hazel eyes were dilated as they gazed down at Harry. Deep inside, something reached out and clung to that gaze, adhering Harry's heart to it. A few seconds later, the pleasure peaked and Harry orgasmed, hips convulsing. Ribbons of semen left him to stain his and Cedric's stomachs and moments later, Cedric's seed joined his own. The Hufflepuff's eyes were shut tight as he shuddered silently in climax.

The older boy collapsed onto Harry in momentary exhaustion, panting heatedly. Harry ran a hand tenderly through Cedric's damp hair and felt contented for the first time in his life. Harry whispered,

"I love you,"

The body in his arms stiffened and froze, setting an alarm set off in the back of Harry's head. It suddenly registered to Harry just what words he had spoken. His throat thickened with fear and his green eyes lowered in worry at the body that was lifting off of him and pulling away. Cedric avoided Harry's eyes and re-dressed in an obvious panic.

Harry's eyes burned terribly as he watched Cedric putting his clothes on, terrified feeling gripping his gut. _Please look at me,_ Harry pleaded inwardly. _Please. Please. Please._

Cedric turned and walked to the door and mumbled loud enough for Harry to hear,

" …I don't think we should see each other for a while," and exited in a hurry.

A choked sob left Harry's trembling lips and there was no stopping the hot tears that slipped from his eyes one after another. Harry brought his hands to his face and hid behind them. He curled up on the floor, shame, heartache, and confusion overwhelming him. He felt lower than lower, hugging himself on the floor of an unknown bathroom wearing only his socks and Griffindor tie, crying alone.

An hour ago, they were fine. A day ago, they were fine. A week ago, they were _fine_. Why did he have to go and blow it by saying something so serious?! Another sob shook his naked form. He felt stupid. He felt absolutely, ridiculously stupid. Sick to his stomach, Harry reluctantly sat up out of desperation of wanting his clothes back on. He grabbed his pants and began clambering into them. He stumbled to his knees and his damp eyes stared at the filled, unused bathtub of swirling colors.

Were they going to bathe together afterwards? Was that what Cedric planned?

Pushing that thought to his side, Harry sloppily buttoned his shirt back up, mismatching buttons to holes. Not caring, he pulled his school robe back on hastily and wiped his face on the sleeves. His heart had felt so warm and full of life a short while ago. Now it felt as if it was being stored in a bucket of ice. Inside he crumbled a little and he eyes welled again. What had he done? Was it that bad?

Harry's return to Griffindor Tower was hard because of his tremulous staggering. The Invisibility Cloak fell off of him several times and he stopped to pick it up, numb to the core. He continued blindly through the corridors until he found the Fat Lady. He barely managed to find his voice to speak the password and pull off the robe to stow away in his bag once more. The painting sleepily opened for him and Harry stumbled into the Common Room miserably. He climbed the stairs and made his way to his four-poster. Not bothering with changing his clothes, Harry dropped into the bed and slowly pulled the crimson curtains shut to seal off the world and all the pain it seemed to bring him. Holding himself again, Harry decided he was too drained to clean himself up. Banishing the shit off of his stomach wasn't going to make him feel any cleaner at all. No, tonight, Harry went to bed feeling not like a blossomed flower, but instead a rejected and withered weed.

--

Harry did not get up for breakfast although he was awake when the other boys rose. Ron had tried talking to him through the curtains but Harry ignored him. Noise dimmed down when they left but a few minutes later, someone returned to the room. Harry waited for them to leave but instead, the pair of feet approached his bed.

"Harry…?" Hermione's voice asked tentatively.

Bolder than Ron, the brunette tugged the curtains back. Her chocolate eyes widened as they peered at Harry's chalky face and reddened, puffy eyes.

"Are you ill?" she immediately questioned. Harry feebly shook his head. "Did something happen with Cedric?" was he next question.

Harry wanted to be surprised but his exhausted emotions wouldn't allow for it. Hermione always knew everything. Instead, he locked eyes with Hermione to suggest, yes, it involves Cedric. The bushy haired girl sighed and perched herself on the edge of the bed, closing the curtains again. She motioned for Harry to scoot over which he did lethargically. Then she lay down on her side facing her best friend.

"Try to talk to me,"

And Harry did. In soft whispers he told her everything. Hermione didn't interrupt and listened to him patiently. However, she gasped in surprise when Harry came close and hugged her tight at the end. She held him tight and rubbed the back of his neck comfortingly. In return for sharing his story, Hermione came out and confessed to spying on him one night with the Invisibility Cloak. A betrayed look flitted over Harry's face before he seemed to shut down again. Hermione apologized, her eyes welling.

"I don't know what got into me. I was completely out of line—I just—I don't even know what I was thinking. I'm just sorry Harry. I'm so very sorry,"

Harry didn't respond but his grip around her tightened.

The door to Harry's door creaked open and the curtains of Harry's bed were thrown open.

"C'mon mate, we'll be late for cla—"

Ron stopped in mid sentence, his blue eyes staring in abject horror. He gazes switched from Harry holding Hermione to Hermione being held and back again.

"I can't fucking believe this," he gasped weakly, stepping back, rage beginning to claim his freckled face. "I can't fucking believe you!" Ron spun and headed for the door when Harry said coldly,

"I'm a fag,"

Ron whipped back around, his face slightly pale. Hermione was glaring daggers at the redhead on the other side of the room. She slid out of Harry's embrace and glided swiftly over to Ron Weasely whom she slapped hard across the face.

"I can't believe _you_ Ronald," she hissed dangerously, her hands shaking with anger. "How could you mistrust Harry and me this much?"

She fled down the stairs, Harry and Ron both staring after her. An uncomfortable silence filled the room, practically palpable. Ron cleared his throat and shifted from one foot to another. Harry looked over wearily at his remaining friend. It was evident that their threesome friendship had more holes than they'd ever realized before. Harry felt as though his life was falling apart before his eyes.

"So…you're…." Ron didn't finish his sentence. He was gazing fiercely at the floor, his ears pink.

"Yeah Ron, I'm gay." Harry supplied bitterly, climbing out of bed so he could attend class.

Harry was so rough with his school bag that it ripped and his books spilled everywhere. Something snapped within Harry and he gripped his hair letting out an enraged scream. His right leg flung out and kicked his nightstand, effectively knocking off his glasses that were on it and shattering them. A cross between a sob and shout left Harry's frustrated body and he sat back down on his bed, gripping himself tightly. Too much. Little things wouldn't normally get to him. But this was too much.

A soft murmur reached Harry's ears and he looked up to see Ron handing him his glasses, fixed.

"Hermione taught me…" he whispered, collecting Harry's books. He spelled the rip in Harry's bag shut and placed the books back inside. Handing the bag to Harry, Ron said,

"It's all good Mate. I'll even hit one of those gay bars with you if you're scared to go alone,"

Ron disappeared down the stairs, leaving Harry alone and touched by Ron's words. Harry sat for a moment and thought about the night before; what had transpired inside his heart. Harry hadn't understood why he'd said 'I love you' then but he knew now that those three words were the most honest phrase he'd ever said in his entire life. He meant them.

Maybe things weren't crumbling after all with him. Harry had his friends, his school, and his personal truths. That is all he needed to be happy. Grabbing his bag and swinging it onto his shoulder, Harry went down to the Common Room to find Hermione and Ron waiting for him. The sight them brought a small, grateful smile to Harry's face. Yes, he had good friends.

They were heading out the portrait hole when Harry remembered he'd forgotten a textbook.

"Go on without me," he called, turning back and jogging for the stairs. Up in his room, Harry went to his trunk and pushed it open, rifling through its contents. He found the book he was looking for and picked it up. Underneath the text was the dark red cover of Albus' diary. Harry's vision blurred and a tingling sensation coiled at the pit of his stomach. The room in front of him darkened and Harry blacked out.

"Good. I'm glad you're back. There's more for you to see, James."

Harry opened his eyes, dizzy. A handsome young Albus was squatting next to him, holding out a helping hand. Harry took it and was pulled to his feet.

"I have my greatest secret to share with you tonight."

* * *

Spring Break gave me the opportunity for a quicker update! If you have a chance, let me know what you think of my fanfiction so far.


	17. Potter the Puppet

Harry and Cedric are falling out of character purposefully, dear readers. Please give my story a chance to unfold so you realize why. This next chapter should clear up a few mysteries. --Jack

* * *

Chapter 17: Potter the Puppet

Harry look warily at Albums Dumbledore who had his characteristic smile in place. He was brushing his bangs out of his face casually as if Harry suddenly hadn't shown up from thin air.

"What's going on?" Harry croaked, the tingling sensation not dying down yet.

Albus turned to look at Harry and something passed through his blue eyes that the Giffindor couldn't identify. Confused and tired, anger began rising back up in Harry again so he glared fiercely at his future headmaster.

"What have you….done?" asked Harry crisply.

An expression of surprise lit Albus' face before it hardened to one of seriousness.

"How could you tell I've done anything?" he questioned curiously.

"I know you when you're older. All I have to see is your eyes. You can't hide guilt when you've done something that you know is wrong," Harry said, peering hard at Albus. "You had better explain. Now. Are you the reason I'm having weird feelings? Are you causing these things to happen to me?"

Albus' lips persed which was an unusual gesture for his personality. It was obvious that this younger Dumbledore hadn't developed his more whimsical side as of yet, that would allow him in later years to roll everything off his shoulder with a gentle laugh. Harry tried to burn holes in Dumbledore with his eyes.

"I must confess, I didn't think my spells would work so well. But all the same, I shouldn't be surprised," said Albus, almost remorsefully.

"What--are--you--talking--about? Harry ground out impatiently. "Why do I keep showing up here? Tell me why I'm losing control over my life! I show up here when I'm not planning to, my horomones are acting in ways they never did before….Why am I suddenly less afraid? Why is Cedric miraculously warming up to his sexuality and then running away? I don't know what you've done to me but you better tell me! And not in your riddles! I'm sick of you hiding selfishly behind your own reasoning. You always do that as an adult. I don't know why, but I feel like you know what's going on and that you owe me a honest explanation!"

Harry was out of breath by the time he finished saying all of that. His cheeks burned from yelling and at some point, he had gotten so close to Albus while shouting that their noses could touch.

"I…don't have friends. I just wanted someone…to feel and understand what I was going through," said Albus quietly. Harry was about to interrupt when the auburn haired boy spoke up again. "My sister is sick. There's a story behind that, I'm afraid, which is too long to tell. Simply put, I abandoned furthering my schooling to remain here with her and my brother, Aberforth. The situation is problematic in more ways than one. My days here got lonelier and lonelier, and often times, I felt terribly bitter about my sister. I'm so ashamed. It's not her fault but—"

Albus trailed off momentarily, expression blank. "When I no longer possessed hope for anything, that is when Gellert Grindelwald moved in to the house adjacent to my own. He was so…beautiful…"

Harry felt a wave of déjà vu slide over him like a blanket, cocooning him as he listened to Albus talk.

"It didn't take long before Gellert and I were close. He seemed like a blessing from heaven because he offered me the companionship I'd been aching for. He had dreams he'd share with me…thoughts and opinions too. I was _happy_. Gellert was the first wizard I encountered who was on the same intellectual level as me and he was more than willing to look outside the box the Wizarding society had placed around us. But I fell in love with him and he ruined me,"

"A year after we met, Gellert had convinced me to rebel against the life I had been trapped in and to embrace my advanced abilities. Use them, he would say. Don't waste them, he would insist. Together we built the workroom I showed you last time you were here. From that room we gave birth to volumes of spells of our own making. Thrilled by our successful creations, Gellert and I began planning for something that extended much farther than the little workroom. Domination of the Muggle world. He often told me if I had the slightest bit of uncertainty that it would be 'for the greater good'. Now I know that those words are terrible, dark lies that would only lead to formidable despair. But at the time I was a fool in love and overwhelmed by the freedom Gellert seemed to give me. I know what is happening to you James because it is what happened to me. The spells I cast on my journals were created by me and are activated under strict circumstances that perhaps destiny allowed you to meet,"

"…and what are these circumstances? What have your spells done?" asked Harry stoically, mixed feelings about Albus' tale. The boy who would become Headmaster of Hogwarts sighed, looking terribly forlorn.

"I placed the spells on the book after a three-way duel between Aberforth, Gellert, and me. You see, Aberforth had found out about the details of Gellert's and my plans. He made to stop us—stop me—and get me to see reason. He knew I was making a mistake and that it would make Ariana, my sister, suffer more. Blinded by love I dueled my own brother with Gellert…and…"

The blue eyes shimmered with unwelcome tears.

"…my sister Ariana was killed."

Harry's throat seized up and he looked away from Dumbledore briefly.

"I don't actually know who cast the spell Atrumodium, but it doesn't matter either way. _I'm to blame for the death of my little sister_…."

Albus wept freely now, head tilted back and eyes screwed shut, emotions pouring out of him one droplet after another.

"I don't deserve to cry. I created that gruesome spell. If it had ever been made public, I'm sure the Ministry would have registered it as an Unforgivable Curse and I would have been imprisoned for it," Albus rubbed his face gruffly and faced Harry. "I have indeed wronged you too in my selfishness."

Harry said nothing but waited for the truth that Albus was offering.

"After Ariana's death, Gellert fled. I had abandoned our quest for domination. After my sister's funeral, I came back to this room with a broken nose thanks to Aberforth's understandable rage. I wasn't in my right mind. I was so…lost. And I took all the books I'd written with Gellert, all of my journals, and cast a very complicated spell on them. I needed somebody so badly. Someone who could relate to me and offer me some kind of advice,"

"The first requirement was two readers, both well rounded and intelligent enough to decode the journals. Secondly, the readers needed to be male, just coming into their sexuality as I was. One needed to translate the spellbooks and the other, my private journals. The one who read my private feelings had to be involved with the other male, emotionally and physically. As you can tell, they were very specific requirements and somewhere deep down, I figured the chances were one in one-hundred thousand that the circumstance would occur. Again, another mistake. Because here you are, suffering as I suffered. For everything I have done—although my apologies are worthless—I am truly sorry. This will make no difference, but after I finished chanting Latin for three hours casting spells on all the books, I regretted it. The Ministry took the books into custody shortly after and I hoped they'd find a way to remove the spells. But the Ministry has always disappointed me so that isn't a shocker,"

"James…you are the reader of my private journals. And—did you mention the other boy's name was…Cedric?—he is the reader of the spellbooks. You and Cedric have powerful ancient magic gripping your relationship. The spells on Cedric were designed to have him react and behave as Gellert would have toward romance. And you James, have spells to make you feel the emotions I did, as I fell into unrequited love,"

A stony silence draped across the small bedroom they were in. The gravity of Dumbledore's words began sinking in and Harry's world crashed down all around him.

Was everything that happened between Cedric and him…a lie? Were all their actions and feelings influenced by a spell Albus cast on his books years ago? Every breath of word, every touch, every heart beat….a lie? A huge lie? One lie after another created by the Puppet Master, Albus Dumbledore?Harry's watery green eyes raised slowly from the floor to meet with the grave gaze of Albus.

"You…sick…bastard," was the first thing Harry said. He didn't understand the hatred that pulled the words from his throat. It was strong and toxic, flooding his veins and making the edges of his vision red. In a flash, Harry went to attack Dumbledore—to tackle him to the ground and smash his face into something unrecognizable—but his leap sent him flying right through Albus Dumbles and sprawled him out on the floor. He turned to look at Albus, astonished to see that the gloomy adolescent was translucent, steadily fading away.

"James…I'm sorry. I will indeed pay dearly for my misdeeds one day, I realize. The spell was broken over you and Cedric the moment you heard the truth. Your life will stabilize and I hope that you'll be able overcome the damage I must have surely caused. Goodbye, my friend."

--

Harry awoke on the floor of the Griffindor common room. There were tears of sadness and fury dried on his face. The black haired boy made no move to get up. He continued laying there as he reflected over everything that was revealed to him. Over his destroyed, seemingly false relationship with Cedric. Over his heartbreak, which he didn't know was really his own or fake, induced by an ancient spell. More than he ever had in his entire life, Harry Potter felt utterly alone, staring blindly up at the tall ceiling of his dormitory. Dumbledore had gotten the person he wanted, a 'friend' to relate to. But at what price? And what did Harry get out of it? Nothing but a horrifying, shattering truth and the worst loss of reality he had ever experienced. The disconcerting feeling of not knowing what was a lie or what was a truth pierced Harry and broke him inside.

If the Headmaster crossed Harry's path now, how would the Griffindor see him? The Dumbledore Harry knew today and the foolish young man he used to be were entirely different people. But Albus had said he'd accept responsibility for everything he'd done. And Harry wanted him to. He wanted Albus Dumbledore to pay for his selfishness and the insecurities he dumped on Harry.

A soft clicking on the window brought Harry out of his bitter thoughts and he sat up to see a barn owl pecking at the window of the dorm. Harry got up stiffly and walked over to the window, opening it. The owl soared in and landed on top of his trunk, sticking out its skinny leg with the letter tied to it. Harry pulled off the letter more aggressively than he intended and the owl bit him in retaliation.

"Bloody hell," Harry spat, shaky his hand as if to dispel the pain.

The owl took off out the window not intent on staying any longer with the infuriated teenager. Harry ripped open the letter and started to read its contents. It was from Hagrid and the half-giant's manuscript was hardly legible. The shaky words informed Harry that Buckbeak's appeal was tomorrow. A hard weight sunk into Harry's stomach. His life had hit rock bottom for sure. Everything that was painful and bad decided to occur at the same time in Harry's life. Perhaps it was his Griffindor spirit that kept him standing?

Forest green eyes turned to gaze at scroll that had a roaring Griffin on it. _Give me strength_, he requested silently to it. Harry folded the letter and put it into the pocket of his school robes. He knew that he had more things to focus on than just his Rune's project, Cedric, and Dumbledore. He had classes to pass (final exams began today), a serial killer after him, and Hagrid who needed his support. Those truths were enough to distract him for now. Picking up his school bag off the floor, Harry glanced down at his mangled watch he wore that told him the time. Half the day was gone; lunch would be ending at this point. He looked down and purposefully kicked the diary on the floor under his bed. Harry's next class was Divination—luckily it was the only class that had a final examination today—and it took an enormous amount of self-discipline for his feet to carry him to the portrait hole and make his way towards the Astronomy Tower.

There was a line up to the ladder that led to Trelawney's classroom. Harry met up with Ron who gave him a, 'where the hell were you?' look. Harry muttered he'd talk to Ron some other time about it. Neville came over nervously to them and began expressing his fears about the Potions examination tomorrow. Harry groaned. He'd completely forgotten about the Potions final exam. He was doomed. Snape was the last person he wanted to see, well, aside from Albus Dumbledore.

After Neville went up into the classroom for his exam, Harry turned to Ron and told him about Hagrid's letter. The redhead's freckles stood out boldly as he paled.

"What're we going to do?" he asked, ruffling his carrot hair with a large hand.

"Dunno," answered Harry shortly, shrugging one shoulder. "We'll talk to Hermione tonight."

Ron was called up to the classroom next and Harry watched miserably as a terrified looking Neville Longbottom swayed past him. Harry didn't even bother asking him how the exam went; the answer was clear. Ron too, came down with a dejected expression on his face. He shook his head at Harry and jerked his thumb in the direction of the ladder.

"Your turn Harry," Ron announced, shaking his head. "Good luck."

Harry climbed the ladder and entered the heavily incensed room through the trapdoor. Professor Trelawney awaited him in a cushy seat next to a large crystal ball. Oh lord.

"The final examination is on telling the future," she said melodically, ushering to the ball.

Harry sat on a small Persian pillow and looked irritably at the ball. He thought the class was a bunch of nonsense and predicting a fake negative future for Trelawney's approval was the last thing he needed at the moment. Harry resisted sighing and raised his hands to hover them over the ball.

"Oh oh," he began sarcastically, wondering if Trelawney caught his attitude. "There is misery in my near future. And death. Oh yes, I see the Grim again and he's out to get me."

"Oh such a misfortunate boy," Trelawney bemoaned, her eyes growing larger behind her spectacles. "Continue. Anything else you see?"

Harry bit his tongue to avoid expressing his annoyance. He stared down at the foggy ball and wiggled his fingers a bit.

"I'm going to lose someone dear to me as well," said Harry flatly, knowing that there was truth in that prediction, even if it didn't actually come from viewing the crystal ball.

"How terrible," whispered Trelawney, lips curved downward in sympathy. Harry got up and made his way back to the trap door but Trelawney's voice suddenly spoke out, bold and deep,

"The Dark Lord will be reunited with his servant tomorrow night when the moon is at its highest point…!"

Then Trelawney seemed to come out of the trance she was in and stared confused at Harry, who was gawking at her.

"Potter," she started airily, "Your exam is complete. Please send in Lavender Brown next,"

Stupified, Harry backed up to the trap door and left the classroom. He barely remembered to tell Lavender Brown to go up for her exam. As she climbed the ladder, Harry grabbed Ron's arm and tugged him urgently around the nearest corner.

"Ron, she foretold the future. The _real _kind of prediction. Her voice went all deep and she said Voldemort is going to be reunited with his servant tomorrow night when the moon is at its highest!" gasped Harry, gripping Ron's shoulders intensely.

Ron got a green tinge to his face.

"Are you serious Harry?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.

"That's the same night of Buckbeak's appeal. We need to talk to Hermione and see what she thinks about all this. We need to figure out what to do."

"This is mad," whispered Ron hoarsely, rubbing his neck with a shaking hand.

Harry wanted to agree but by this point in his life, he was used to having his life government by chaos.

--

Hermione showed up to the Common Room that night looking completely depleted. Her hair was in disarray and she hadn't even shown up to dinner that night. Harry and Ron stared at her aghast for a moment before swooping down and telling her the news. Despite her being obviously dead-tired, Hermione went alert after hearing about Trelawney's prediction. The woman was a loony most of the time but from what she had read, Harry's description of Trelawney as the foretelling was told matched descriptions of authenticity. She took a tremulous breath.

"I don't see what we can do Harry. We don't know where the Dark Lord is. We don't know who the servant is. There are too many blanks and even if we knew the answers, I don't know how we'd stop this from happening. I suppose we should talk to Dumbled—"

"No!" barked Harry.

Ron and Hermione flinched and gazed at Harry in shock.

"He can't be trusted," said Harry darkly, turning to look up the staircase where the diary lay beyond. "We will tell him nothing."

Hermione and Ron went from shocked to sincerely dumbstruck. Harry had idolized Dumbledore last time they'd heard. When did this serious change of opinion occur?

"Harry…is there something you want to tell us?" Hermione inquired softly.

"Later I will," Harry nodded. "But not now,"

Up in bed, Harry tossed and turned, plagued by a variety of nightmares. The huge boulders were back and giant Cedric sat on one of them, head in his hands. Then a dark cloaked figure was running across Harry's field of vision and he somehow knew that the figure was Voldemort's servant, going to meet the Dark Lord. Harry ran as hard and fast as he could after the figure but giant Cedric placed his hand down in his path, blocking him.

"Was it all a lie?" asked Cedric, sounding very sad.

Harry sat upright in bed, coated in sweat. The room was unbearably stuffy. Stressed out, Harry got out of bed and went to the window hoping to let in cool air. He was fiddling with the lock when he noticed movement down on the grounds below. Squinting, Harry saw with alarm the Grim sitting back on his haunches, eyes gleaming up at the window. In a flash, the unlucky dog was gone, abandoning Harry with a nauseous feeling in his gut. A terrible irony seemed to be looming over him, that maybe his made-up ridiculous prediction for his final exam…wasn't so ridiculous after all.


	18. Bumping into Black

I'm so fucking ashamed. My god….I have spelled Gryffindor wrong throughout my entire 131 page fanfiction. I'm surprised no one bitched at me for spelling it "Griffindor" up until now! Shit I'm going to go back and fix all those.

* * *

Chapter 17: Bumping into Black

Harry took one unsteady step after another, backing away from the window. A heavy dread filled him and he considered waking Ron up to tell him what he saw. But then he remembered how pale Ron seemed to become whenever Harry mentioned the Grim. The raven haired third year turned to his trunk and opened the lid silently. Searching for his Invisibility Cloak, Harry located it and pulled. It came free but a small clunk caught his attention. Looking down, green eyes came to rest upon a peppermint snap next to his foot. A sharp pang raked across Harry's chest cavity and he swallowed at the lump in his throat. He remembered the shy smile that lighted Cedric's face when he gave Harry the candies from Honeydukes, the sparkle inside his hazel eyes. Biting his lip, Harry toed the peppermint under his bed where the diary was. That's where it belonged, right?

Snatching his wand off the bedside table and whipping the cloak on, Harry left the dorm to make his way outside onto the grounds. He didn't know what he was going to do but he wanted to find that dog. Find him and—

Harry stopped just before the moving staircases, frowning. What exactly was he going to do when he found the Grim? Tell it to go away? Kill it? Suddenly Harry felt very foolish indeed and all his former adrenaline disappeared, leaving him wearier than he was before going to bed. Under the cloak he rubbed his temples deftly. He was tired but wide-awake, one of the worst paradoxes imaginable. His stability seemed to be waning significantly.

Unwilling to return to Gryffindor Tower, Harry opted to wander around until he felt exhausted enough to sleep. If it took an hour before dawn for him to reach that state then so be it.

Choosing a random staircase, Harry stepped out and allowed it to carry him to a corridor. The darkness was overwhelming so he engaged Lumos, holding his wand out in front of him to light the path. The area seemed vaguely familiar but Harry shook off the thought. The end of the hall melted into a staircase, leading up into some other part of the castle. Harry climbed each step without hesitation, again having the sensation of déjà vu. He came upon another hallway but this one had with funny shaped doors lining it. He opened the one to his immediate right and entered the chamber.

Thumping and clinking announced another presence in the room and Harry thrust his wand out in the direction of the sounds, a hex half past his lips. Bumping against the castle wall was the chest Harry had encountered only yesterday containing a Boggart. Determined, Harry furrowed his brows together and faced the trunk, grip tightening on his wand. Every pent of emotion rose up to become his courage: the fury, the disappointment, the sadness, the lingering hope, the gratefulness for his friends, his confusion, and the happiness he could still remember.

The trunk burst open and out from its depths ascended a black creature, the shredded cloak it wore billowing. A rattling breath echoed dryly about the chamber making Harry's courage falter briefly, like candlelight in a breeze. Blazing fiercely once more, Harry opposed the Dementor, and lifted his wand.

"Expecto Patronum!" he yelled, the memories of his and Cedric's time together dancing across his mind's eye.

A large, glowing mist left his wand forcing the Dementor back, hissing. Astounded, Harry watched the mist flicker bright for a few moments and then disappeared. The Dementor rounded back on Harry and the boy could feel the standard chill begin creeping up his spine. Blocking out the cold, he focused on the happiest memories he could dredge up: his acceptance letter to Hogwarts, the first Christmas present he'd ever received, soaring on Buckbeak over the lake, winning the Quidditch Cup his first year, Cedric kissing him up against a tapestry…

"Expecto Patronum!"

Out from Harry's wand exploded not a mist but a solid shape that charged at the Dementor, sending it flying back into the trunk. The glow the shape emitted was brilliant, almost too strong to look at. But Harry squinted at it nonetheless and realized that the charm he conjured was in the form of an animal. A stag.

It approached Harry slowly, large eyes blinking. Then in a split second it had dissolved, allowing darkness to flood the room again. The Gryffindor youth stood there in disbelief, soaking in the reality he'd casted a full blown Patronus. Wasn't it supposed to be a high level charm? Slowly, Harry turned and wandered out from the chamber, a huge smile on his face. He was very impressed with himself.

Casting the Patronus perfectly was just the boost Harry's spirit needed.

* * *

The morning offered Harry another shock. He was sitting at the breakfast table forking sausage onto his plate when Oliver Wood dropped with a huff into the seat next to him.

"Did you get that Firebolt back from McGonagall?" wheezed Wood, looking as though he'd recently completed a marathon.

"Yes…" answered Harry cautiously, about to ask why Wood wanted to know about the broom, when it hit him.

The Slytherin v. Gryffindor Quidditch match!

Harry gaped at his eggs as though they had suddenly spoken and pleaded him not to eat them. How could he have forgotten the match? Flabbergasted he turned to Wood and sputtered out that he was ready for the match. Then Wood was gone and Harry faced his friends who were staring at him astounded.

"You actually forgot?!" exclaimed Ron, shaking his head.

"There's been a lot happening!" Harry attempted reasoning, guilty pushing his food around on his plate. "Everything will be fine."

Ron just continued shaking his head in incredulity. The twins came over at the end of breakfast, each taking one of Harry's arms and lifting him up out of his seat.

"Warm up time," grinned Fred.

"Let's go," added George.

Harry was half dragged away from the Gryffindor table, causing quite a scene. When they were exiting the Great Hall Harry couldn't help but scan the Hufflepuff table for a certain handsome fifth year. Cedric wasn't there. The doors closed behind him and Harry followed the Weasley twins semi-reluctantly on their trek to the Gryffindor locker room, located at one corner of the Quidditch Pitch. What Harry failed to notice, however, was that Albus Dumbledore wasn't present at breakfast either.

* * *

Energy was high in the Gryffindor prep meeting. Each teammate was pumped up for the match due to the extreme rivalry between the Houses. Harry clenched his new broom excitedly. He was ready for this. The match was a chance for him to burn off stress and do something that gave him absolute joy.

"Alright. Don't get your heads so full of air that you don't think out there!" said Wood sternly. "Those snakes play dirty so watch out. We're really counting on our Beaters today to knock Slytherin off their brooms."

Fred and George shared a high five with each other, broad smiles lifting their freckled cheeks.

"On three, Go Gryffindor!" ordered Spinnet, thrusting her hand in the center of their circle. The rest of the team joined in chanting numbers and shouting their battle cry. Outside the announcer was introducing the game. First the Slytherin players were being called and Harry listened to the mixture of applause and boos from the spectators. His heartbeat accelerated.

"Now Gryffindor!" the announcer alerted, and the Gryffindor team mounted their brooms behind the curtain. One by one they were called and finally Harry took off at the statement,

"And the Seeker, Harry Potter!"

The game was intense from the beginning. Players were slamming up against each other, forcing one another into the walls of the stadium or dangerously close to the golden goal posts. Droplets of sweat were flung from the ends of Harry's damp locks with each veer of his head. He had several snitch sightings, which sent him and his rival Seeker Draco Malfoy hurdling at break neck speed into the stands or towards the ground in a pure nosedive. He was being elbowed; he was being pushed and shoved. He and Draco swirled about each other on their brooms chasing the snitch with passion. From the audience, it must have seemed like a dance; a dance between warriors of the sky. Harry was few feet ahead of Draco in pursuit of the golden winged ball—a great advantage for his team—and his gloved hand was stretching out. If could grasp it, the game would go to Gryffindor.

A Bludger raced past Draco forcing the blonde boy to arc away and it contacted with Harry's wrist. A sickening snap reached Harry's ear and pain seared down his arm, enough to make him sick to his stomach. But he urged the Firebolt faster and threw out his undamaged hand and took hold of the Snitch.

Cheers erupted deafeningly loud in Quidditch stadium and Harry felt sweaty arms tossed around him as his teammates flew up, hugging him. Harry was grinning big enough he thought his face may split apart. The Gryffindor Seeker was just beginning to soak in the euphoria of their victory, making his heart leap. He shook the fist cradling the Snitch and the ovation's volume reached its peak. At that moment in time, Harry felt enough joy he figured he could have conjured up an _army_ of Patronus.

* * *

Later that afternoon, heading back to the dorm with Ron after lunch, Harry was admiring Madam Pomfrey's handiwork on his wrist. She had mended his bone quickly and painlessly. With an inward wince, Harry recalled having to re-grow bones last year in the Hospital Wing. That had been very painful. The redhead walking next to him was still re-capping the match with vigor.

"And Harry, you should've seen the look on bloody Malfoy's face!" chortled Ron.

"And what look would that have been exactly, Weasel?" growled a familiar voice.

Harry and Ron stopped. In front of them, flanked by his usual gorillas Crabbe and Goyle, was Draco Malfoy. His pretty face was twisted up in a harsh scowl and Harry noted with a sinking feeling that the Slytherin's wand was out, pointing directly at them. "I wouldn't make a move if I were you," spat Draco, narrowing his eyes at Ron, who was making for his wand.

To Harry's annoyance, Ron listened and froze in mid-position. Since when did they agree to take orders from Malfoy? Harry's hand plunged into his robes and his fingers wrapped around the pliant wood and Malfoy turned on him. Some kind of spell was released and raven haired boy heard a muffled,

"Look out!"

Ron, attempting to yank Harry out of the way was hit instead. With a grunt he dropped to ground and began convulsing. Malfoy looked frightened and he took off down the hall, Crabbe and Goyle at his tail. Harry crouched down next to Ron and cupped his flaming head to keep it from thrashing against the hard floor. His mouth was ajar and froth bubbled forth. A shriek resonated down the corridor and frantic footsteps followed.

Hermione had returned from one of her mysterious disappearances she had made a habit of this year. Her brown eyes were pools of hysteria and in an instant her wand was out, issuing spells to calm Ron's fit.

"Who did this?" she demanded, pulling Ron's limp, now unconscious body to her.

"Malfoy," Harry ground out, glaring vehemently down the hall where the blonde had run off.

Hermione cursed sharply which was against her nature. Harry jumped with surprise.  
"This couldn't have happened at a more worse time," she commented darkly. "Listen Harry, I was just at Hagrid's. Buckbeak lost the appeal! He's to be executed today at sundown! Hagrid needs support and I must get Ron to the Hospital Wing, as well as inform Professor McGonagall what Malfoy has done. Best to bring your cloak with you Harry. Students won't be allowed to witness the execution."

Hermione levitated Ron's body as she stood up. She was off before Harry had the chance to protest. He really wanted to go the Hospital Wing and see if his best friend was all right. He also really wanted to find Malfoy and smash his smug face in. But he had to go down and give Hagrid emotional help. Without thinking, Harry spun around and punched his fist into the wall. His knuckles cried out against the contact and Harry clenched his jaw to keep silent. His hand was bleeding a little as he ventured up to Gryffindor Tower to grab his father's cloak.

* * *

Saying Hagrid was a mess would have been an understatement. Although he wasn't blubbering and soaking his beard with snot or tears, his eyes spoke his insecurities. The bushy eyebrows on the half-giant's face couldn't mask the emotions his eyes revealed. As he was getting up and preparing tea, his huge hands shook so terribly that the milk jug was dropped. Harry cast a clumsy repairing charm—he was never that great at them—and gazed helplessly at Hagrid. How was he supposed to help?

"At least I'll be here for you when…you know…it happens," offered Harry lamely, fingers gliding along the edge of the oversized kitchen table. They brushed over a scorch mark made by Hagrid's baby dragon in first year.

"No," Hagrid protested, to Harry's surprise. "I don't want ya seein' this. You have a curfew to meet anyways,"

"But Hagrid—" started Harry but the Ground's Keeper interrupted.

"No buts. Now…" he trailed off and frowned deeply at the can he was grasping. "What the hell…?" he growled, lip curling.

The can was inverted sharply and out onto the counter dropped none other than Scabbers, the rat. Harry gawked at the little rodent, looking grungier and sicker than Harry ever remembered. Hagrid picked up the animal by his tail and made to toss him outside the kitchen window.

"No Hagrid! That's Ron's rat!" Harry intervened, grabbing Scabbers before the creature was disposed off. Harry felt a little more than disgusted holding the trembling animal. Scabbers' fur was greasy and he'd lost more of it, exposing a large patch of textured skin on his back. Harry resisted the urge to drop Ron's pet and Scorgify his hands several times through.

Then Hagrid abruptly stomped past Harry and peeked out from behind the threadbare curtain covering his living room window. He faced Harry, very pale.

"Oh the Ministry folk are here," he choked, twisting the hem of his shirt in his giant hands nervously. "Harry get yer cloak on. Quick now! If they chatcha here…"

Harry barely managed to conceal himself under his father's cloak when the Ministry people burst in through Hagrid's cabin door, not stopping to knock courteously.  
"Where is the beast?" demanded one man. Harry couldn't tell whom from behind.

"Yes…tell us where that loathsome creature is that nearly maimed my son," a cool voice agreed. Harry knew who had said that even without the long, platinum blonde hair almost brushing across his face. Lucius Malfoy…

He wasn't sure how he did it but Harry successfully slipped out Hagrid's door—while retaining Scabbers who squirmed incessantly—before the Ministry people snapped it shut. He bit his lip thinking back on the black masked executioner who had been amongst them. It was sad that Buckbeak's last vision would be of the masked man.

As if fate were listening to his thoughts, a sickening thud flooded the air before Harry could prepare for it. He felt his eyes well up and burn. Unconsciously, Harry's hands clutched Scabbers to his chest. The rat squealed and squeaked loudly. Sharp rodent teeth sank into the flesh of Harry's forefinger.

"Ouch!"

The rat scampered away like mad and Harry chased after him. Finding Scabbers would alleviate the remaining tensions between Ron and Hermione, as well as provide a perfect 'get well soon' present for his jinxed best friend. The tall grass near the forest's edge made it difficult for Harry to keep track of Scabbers. His cloak also impaired his running abilities.

"Dammit," Harry blurted out as he stumbled over an unseen tree root. What had made Scabbers freak out so bad?

Harry got his answer in the form of three parts. In front of him snaking along the forest's perimeter was Chrookshanks, followed by the Grim and a shabby, tattered looking man. Harry's gut felt as though it had been filled by lead. Crookshanks took off after Scabbers after a single blink of Harry's eyes.

If Harry thought matters couldn't have worsened, he was sorely mistaken because as he was about to run after his two best friends' pets, another person joined the mayhem.

"Harry!"

The boy addressed twisted around in astonishment to see Cedric Diggory sprinting across the grounds towards his, panic plain on his beautiful face. Why on Earth had he shown up? And now of all times!?

"Cedric!" Harry bellowed. "Don't come over here! RUN!"

A crackling of branches sounded and a mass of black fur zoomed past Harry. The Grim bounded up the lawn towards the Cedric. The Hufflepuff didn't even have a chance to counter with a spell. His wand was knocked out of his hand by a shaggy head and the massive canine tackled him to the ground. Thrashing about, Cedric was dragged by his school robes in the direction of the Whomping Willow. Immediately the Gryffindor tore after them, abandoning his cloak. He was too slow. The Whomping Willow's branches stopped their violent swinging to allow the Grim and Cedric to pass by unharmed. However they started back up again with a vengeance as soon as Harry had caught up.

Hyperventilating and frantic, Harry tried to dodge his way through branches to reach Cedric, who was crying out for help. In a distraught attempt at stopping the dog, Cedric had hooked a foot into a root at the base of the tree. Not a half-minute later, the same nasty snap Harry heard his wrist make that morning came again, this time from Cedric's ankle.

A branch sliced up Harry's cheek and brought out a substantial amount of blood. A second, thicker branch swooped down and thwacked Harry across his chest, sending him flying back. Desperation was prickling behind his eyes, making him narrow sighted. Harry stiffened as the point of a wand buried itself at the base of his neck.

"I do not wish you any harm," the voice said and Harry recalled the ramshackle man he'd witnessed with the Grim. Harry had forgotten about him.

"Crookshanks, if you'd please…" said the man politely.

Harry gaped as Hermione's fluffy cat leaped and avoided the Whomping Willow's branches gracefully. Upon reaching the trunk, he lifted a paw and pushed a knot near the base. The branches froze instantaneously.

"Traitorous cat," thought Harry bitterly as the wand at his back nudged him forward. Harry could see there was a tunnel barely visible underneath the maze of roots.

"Down you go," said the man lightly and he pushed Harry into the tunnel. The dirt rose up in clouds all around the raven haired boy as he slid to the bottom and shortly after came the man with Crookshanks.

"Continue onward. We'll be right behind you."

Harry frowned deeply at the man's seemingly blasé attitude but wandered up the tunnel as he was told, propelled by his desire to save Cedric. He had so many things he needed to talk and ask him about. Like why was he running out onto the grounds tonight after him? And how did he know Harry was out there?

The tunnel curved upwards and Harry's hands reached up to feel wood. Pushing, the surface gave way and fresh air poured down onto the third year's face. Looking into his face was another face, one with hollowed cheeks and dark eyes; matted hair that fell across narrow shoulders and lips that were pressed into a grimace. It was the face that had scored the front page of newspapers for almost a solid year now. It was the face of Sirius Black.

* * *

Those hoping for more CedricxHarry goodness will be receiving it shortly, I promise. Plot was a necessity for the past couple chapters. Don't give up faith on our young Hogwart's boys' romance yet!

Thank you for all the reviews so far. Your support supplies my energy. I really appreciate your feedback! --jack


	19. Harry's Hope

Thank you for all the support thus far and for reading up until this point. Your feedback is very appreciated!—Jack

I know…it's been a little while since I last updated. Sorry for that. But it's summer now so I'll be able to churn chapters out faster…like I did at spring break. I appreciate all the patience.

Warning: Just as a reminder, I'd like to say that I won't be following the third book completely. I'm making my own rules…haha.

* * *

Chapter 19: Harry's Hope

There is something unsettling about staring deep into the eyes of the man who murdered over 13 people, not to mention the cause of your own parents' deaths. Black returned Harry's gaze unblinkingly as though he was searching through the boy's soul and unwilling to relinquish his hold. An unspoken mixture of energy trickled in the air between them. Hate boiled up in Harry, hot and intoxicating. The Grim was gone, leaving Harry to the conclusion that the dog had actually been Black all along. How was that possible?

A wand prodded the back of Harry's neck, urging him up out of the tunnel. Climbing out, Harry realized that the decrepit building he was in was the Shrieking Shack. To his left Cedric was crumbled on the ground, hopefully unconscious and not—

A hollow feeling was devouring Harry from the inside out, as the thought that Black may have murdered Cedric too, passed through his mind. Green eyes desperately scanned Cedric's body for signs of breathing. Sure enough, the older boy's chest was rising and falling, albeit weakly. The empty feeling ebbed away inside Harry slightly, giving way to rage strong enough to raise the hairs on the back of his neck, as the fur would on an angry animal. Harry wheeled on Black, wand out and about to cast a curse.

"Expelliarmus!" shouted the man behind Harry.

The black haired boy was thrown into the wall of the shack next to Cedric and his wand soared into the man's free hand. Vision hazy, Harry still glared heatedly at the men, rage still present in his veins.

"I'm sorry I had to do that Harry," apologized the raggedy man, addressing the boy far too casually but looking sincere. Black seemed to be sneering. Then the shabby man swiveled about and walked over to Black, handing him Harry's wand. The criminal eyed it momentarily before peering about the room.

"Crookshanks," he said in a raspy voice, his mouth barely seen behind his unkempt beard. "Bring him here,"

"Bring who?" Harry wondered. Cedric? How was the cat going to drag Cedric over? Nonetheless, harry twisted his head to the side and gazed at the attractive boy, wishing that the Hufflepuff hadn't run out onto the grounds at all; that he could have ignored Harry until the end of time if that meant he would have been spared from this. Protectively and cautiously, Harry reached down and strained to pull Cedric to him, resting his golden, sweaty head against his chest. His arms wrapped around the fifth year's torso and kept him close. Cedric's head lolled to the side.

But Black was not speaking of Cedric and Harry watched in confusion as the bushy orange feline spat Scabbers out at the criminal's feet.

"There's no mistaking him Sirius," whispered the other man gently, his hand coming to rest on Black's bicep.

"Yes…the missing toe," replied Black severely. "Ready Remus?"

Scabbers squeaked terrible, sharp cries, scratching utterly panic-stricken at the grimy floor of the Shack, attempting to escape. Crookshanks was pinning him down by his fat rat-tail. Black smiled cruelly down at the animal, as if the rodent's terrified squeals were giving him physical pleasure.

"Don't bother trying to escape," he bit out, raising Harry's wand. The bloke named Remus did the same.

"Expelliarmus!" two simultaneous voices yelled but they didn't belong to the two men in the room.

The mens' wands—there were three of them: Harry's, Remus', and Cedric's which the shabby man must have pocketed along the way—flew into the outstretched hands of Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley.

"Not…one…move…" Hermione shrilled, twitching her wand in a gesture that implied the men should move to the corner of the room, which they did. She was obviously shaken by the circumstances, her tiny body shivering and cheeks pale.

"Hermione…" whispered Harry, eyes wide. "How…?"

"Your map Harry. You didn't come back before curfew so I checked it…and it's good thing I did," answered Hermione, gliding swiftly over to her friend and Cedric.

"Sirius…" mumbed Remus, sounding a little ill. "I'm running out of time,"

Two pairs of eyes wandered to the broken window of the Shrieking Shack where the setting sun could be seen. Sirius Black faced the teenagers in the room who had gathered in one spot, still pointing their wands threateningly in his direction.

"You must listen!" he said urgently, taking another glance out the window. "Please!"

"We have no reason to listen to a murderer!" spat Ron, one arm supporting Cedric as Hermione revived the boy.

"Sirius is innocent!" retorted the other man, his pale face flushing briefly with emotion.

This statement set Harry off and he stood up, ignoring Hermione's warnings. She had given him his wand back. Harry hoped Black could see all the hate he felt towards him. He hoped that it was coming off him in tangible, shadowy waves and that Black knew it was all for him. All of it!

"How dare you," he snarled at the two of them. "How dare you even _suggest_ that _traitor_ is innocent! He's the reason my parents are dead! He was their Secret Keeper and he betrayed his own best friends for Voldemort!"

"NO!" thundered Black. "I COULD NEVER—I WOULD NEVER BETRAY JAMES AND LILY!"

"Don't say their names!" shouted Harry, a shower of red sparks issuing from his wand's tip.

"We can prove it!" intervened Remus, looking quite stricken. His face was growing paler by the minute and was dewing with cold sweat. The teenagers in the room were nonplussed by these words. Curiosity was dancing about the room but it was surprising who took the bait.  
"How…?" mumbled Cedric groggily, who was leaning up against the cracked bedpost of the room's queen sized bed. Harry's eyes jerked over to see the Hufflepuff staring steadily at the men, analyzing them.

"The rat isn't a rat at all," started Sirius, eyes darkening with a loathing that rivaled Harry's own.

"Sirius, we should start from the beginning and tell them quickly," said Remus wisely. The shameful looking man gazed over at Harry and his friends, frowning. "Harry, Sirius wasn't your parents' Secret Keeper. A man named Peter Pettigrew was. He was our friend while we attended Hogwarts—"

"Biggest bloody mistake we ever made," hissed Black venomously. Remus sighed patiently.

"Yes, it was indeed a mistake. You see Harry, Sirius was originally going to be Lily and Jame's Secret Keeper. But before they went into hiding, it ended up being decided that Peter would become the Secret Keeper. He was less obvious choice than Sirius Black because of his…personality," explained Remus, choosing his words carefully but with clear disdain.

"It should've been me. I never would have told!" barked Sirius, quite dog-like. Remus shot him a look that told him to be silent and let him continue.

"Peter was a mistake, through and through; a mistake that cost Lily and James their lives…and almost yours. When it was discovered that Peter was going to betray your parents, Sirius rushed to stop him. However, Peter escaped in an explosion that killed 13 Muggles and left Sirius to take the blame,"

"What proof is there of this?" demanded Hermione, continuing to shake against her will.

"The toe," mumbled Black darkly, eyes fixing on Scabbers who was still struggling.

Perplexed, the teenagers all peered down at the rat trapped under Crookshanks' fluffy paw. Harry was beginning to feel angry again because it seemed the two men were just leading them on, stalling for something.

"What the hell does the rat have to do with anything?" asked Harry, vexed.

"That rat has everything to do with this. That isn't a rat at all. It's Peter Pettigrew," said Black bitterly, pointing at Scabbers.

"Bullocks," said Ron immediately. Harry and Hermione glanced quickly at him.

"The toe," Sirius stated again, nodding his head towards the rodent. "When Peter disappeared he left behind a finger to fake his own death. But really, he transformed after severing it and ran down into the sewers."

Harry was extremely skeptical. The mens' story seemed more far-fetched by the moment. Seriously, who would chop of their own finger…?

"I knew it was that redhead's rat. Saw his picture in the paper while I was in Azkaban," offered Sirius in a monotone. A hollow look flickered in Black's eyes and he seemed haunted for a moment by an unknown memory.

"I read about the finger being the only piece of Peter they could recover…" said Ron hoarsely, shaking his head. "But Scabbers can't be….there's just no way…he was born with his toe like that."

"We can prove it by forcing him back to his human form. Then you can see for yourselves,"

"There have only been seven registered animagi this century," Hermione interjected, bottom lip overturned in suspicion.

Remus shook his head, guilt obvious on his face.

"I feel terrible that I never told Dumbledore that my friends were animagi after everything he's done for me…"

Silence settled over the room momentarily. Then Black spoke up, his voice hoarse,

"Remus…the sunset…."

The grungy man whirled around and looked out the window, paling—if possible—even more.

"Please! Give us the wands back. That rat really is Peter Pettigrew," his voice cracking in obvious desperation.

Harry frowned deeply in suspicion but a movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Cedric Diggory was shakily standing up, broken ankle making it difficult but his wand at the ready.

"What's the spell?" he asked calmly.

"Cedric, what are you doing?" sputtered Harry, shifting his gaze back and forth across the room.

"It's non-verbal," answered Remus quietly.

Cedric nodded curtly and limped forward, handing his wand to Remus. Harry thought he was going to drop dead from disbelief. What the hell was Cedric thinking? Remus' eyes softened into something delicate and grateful as he dipped his head down in thanks.

"Cedric!" Harry shouted, half confused, half enraged.

"Harry…if they were going to kill us, we would have already been dead. My Uncle is an Auror. Every summer he visits us and trains me a little, teaching me tricks of the trade that'll come in handy later. Harry, they're not lying. I can tell. You're going to have to trust me on this…and them." Cedric's face was hardened with seriousness.

Harry stood there, continuing to be overwhelmed by disbelief. What on earth was Cedric thinking? Had the bump to his head knocked all his brains out? But The Boy Who Lived didn't have time to finish that thought because on the floor, Scabbers was twisting and contorting into a distinct human form. Round, sweaty, and nearly as shabby as Remus, Peter Pettigrew twitched on the ground, his beady eyes staring in terror up at them.

"Long time no see," said Black coldly, stepping on the hem of Peter's ramshackle robes in place of Crookshanks.

"S-Sirius! R-Remus!" squeaked Peter, quite rodent-like. His eyes jerked back and forth between to the two men glowering at him.

"Oh gross," croaked Ron weakly, leaning back against the Shack's wall with a thump. "I…I've let…him sleep in my bed….and in my lap….he's seen me change my clothes…."

A momentary flicker of empathy filled Harry for his friend Ron. Discovering that your beloved pet was actually a fat, balding man who—by accusation—killed 13 Muggles instead of Sirius Black was definitely disgusting. Ron seemed a little green in the dim light.

"It's true…his finger isn't there," whispered Hermione, finally lowering her wand. Harry followed her gaze to the floor where she was undoubtedly staring at the knub left behind by the missing finger of Peter Pettigrew.

There was a flash of light and Peter was magically handcuffed. The lines of tension disappeared from Sirius' face and a look of contentedness flitted over his features. This was the moment he must have dreamt of all those years spent in Azkaban. Harry swallowed, attempting to digest the reality being hurdled at him. Sirius is innocent. Or at least—

"Give me that wand Remus," he growled, a hand reaching out and closing over the other man's. The wand was immediately relinquished and from Black's hand, the tip of it pointed down harshly at Peter right between the eyes.

"Peter…" whispered Black softly, his voice laced with venom. "Tonight, you die for what you did to James and Lily."

The pathetic, blubbery man on the floor wailed at this and Harry was waiting for the moment Peter actually wetted himself with fear.

"P-Please!" he squealed. "I didn't mean—you don't know—Sirius, Remus—please have mercy!

"You don't deserve it!" snarled Black, teeth bared. He steadied his wand when a voice stopped him,

"No, stop..."

The two men glanced up, startled as Harry stepped forward, hand outstretched as if he meant to block whatever spell was about to come forth.

"D…Don't do it. I don't think…my dad would want you two to be killers…not for anything," said Harry, his voice soft with emotion. He was still overpowered by the discovery of Peter, still quaking on the floor, and Black's innocence. All he knew was that as he stared over at the two men there—his father's old best friends—was that he didn't want them to sully themselves. Not over this.

A sudden clutching at his pant leg made Harry look down and grimace as Peter continued to cling on him.

"Thank you. Oh thank you Harry. So merciful, so kind," the balding man spewed, beading eyes gazing up at Harry in a way that made the boy's insides crawl.

"Get off of me," said Harry coldly, kicking his leg. "I'm not doing this for you. Trust me, when that Dementor leans in to kiss you, you're going to wish I hadn't stopped them. You're going to get everything you deserve,"

Disgusted, Harry managed to free his leg and stumble over to Cedric, who to Harry's surprise, put an arm around his shoulders to steady him. Looking up at older boy, the third year realized that Cedric may have just done it instinctively, not thinking about what it may have implied to others. And Harry quickly took notice that no one else in the room really cared how Cedric was touching him right now. They were all focused on a man that supposedly had been dead for thirteen years.

"Get up," snapped Black, maneuvering the wand to pull Peter to his feet by his cuffed hands.

* * *

The tunnel was even more cramped and awkward than it had been the first time Harry went through it. This time, there were more people. A lot more people. Crookshanks and Hermione headed the group, followed shortly by Ron, then Harry who was now supporting Cedric as they clambered along, Peter in shackles behind them, finally finishing up with Sirius and Remus. What a sight they must have been. Dust rose up behind Ron and tickled Harry's sensitive nose, forcing a sharp sneeze out of the boy. Croaky chuckles reached the Boy Who Lived ears and Harry turned to peer over his shoulder.

By the light of Remus' wand—(it had been returned to him before starting back to Hogwarts)—Harry could see the eyes of Sirius Black locked on him. They were ablaze with the same intensity as the time Harry had first looked into them. However, there was a light in them now; a warmth Harry couldn't quite identify.

"You look so much like your father," smiled Sirius, eyes crinkling up at the corners. "But your eyes…your eyes are so much like Lily's, your mother."

Harry didn't know how to respond to such a statement so instead he tightened his grip around Cedric and continued to trudge forward, all the while staring over his shoulder at the man. There was another minute of silence as the group continued along the path before Sirius spoke up again,

"Uh…Harry," he said slowly, looking uncomfortable. Harry's eyebrows lifted to show he was listening. Vaguely, he wondered if Sirius could make out his face that clearly in the poor light. "I…I don't know if anyone told you Harry…erm…but I—I'm your godfather…" The wild haired man trailed off at this point almost looking shy.

"Yeah, I heard that you were," answered Harry neutrally. Where was this going?

"Oh. Well, uh, then you know, I mean if you'd like to Harry, you could…come stay with me this summer, after my name is cleared and all. We'd be living in the Black manor…it's not all glamorous or anything but—" Sirius mumbled, obviously a little nervous about reaching out to his godchild.

Despite himself, Harry stopped and turned to gawk at the man. The true reality was starting to unfold for him to understand. This man, who was innocent of all his accused crimes, his dad's best friend, his godfather, could....

.

….adopt him.

.

He was…family. Pale pink lips parted in this realization as a hope and joy flooded his system that he'd never felt before. He had a family member that wanted him around. Even asked for him to stay the entire summer. He had a family member who had memories and a life to share with him. Possibly could even be…a father figure.

Harry didn't even feel like it was his own voice when he whispered,

"Really…?"

Wide green eyes were piercing black ones, each pair filled with fragile and uncertain hope.

"Yes Harry. Come live with me."

The raven haired youth's heart beat against his chest violently in excitement. A small shudder claimed his form as a laugh bubbled up from his throat. He didn't know why he had the urge to laugh but perhaps the happiness that was enveloping him had something to do with it. Sirius too, was laughing, a relieved expression on his face.

"Best keep moving," said Cedric hoarsely, looking a little more than worn out. The pain was obviously affecting him. And he didn't seem like the only one suffering. Remus' breathing was strained and his face a sickly color.

Immerging out onto the grounds, Harry never thought the air had ever smelled so pure. The dusty tunnel had left his mouth feeling pasty and his eyes scratchy. The clouds above them formed a fluffy black umbrella, blocking out the stars and moon that were surely on the other side. The night was very dark. In the distance, Harry could make out the lights of the Hogwarts castle. Beside him, Cedric was beginning to wheeze, his eyes at half closed. Harry bit his lip in worry. Sensing the heavy gaze, Cedric turned to peer over at the green eyes gazing at him. He opened his mouth to speak but a shooting pain raced up his leg again, pushing a hiss out of him instead. At this, Harry moved closer and supported more of his weight.

"I'm leaving now. I'll see if I can find it," Remus' voice suddenly carried over and Harry turned in time to see the Shabby man break off from the group, leaving his wand with Sirius. He dissolved into the heavy darkness in the direction of the Forbidden Forest.

"Where's he going?" asked Harry, frowning. Sirius looked grave.

"It's a bad night for Remus to be out," Peter piped up, his beady eyes jerking around in search of something.

"Shut your mouth!" Sirius barked, jabbing Remus' wand into the back of Peter's head.

Harry could make out the castle steps when it happened. The clouds split apart and shimmering moonlight poured forth, emptying out over the grounds and bathing everything in a silvery light. By this light, Harry saw his godfather's stricken expression.

"Run, Harry," he said. Then louder, "Run!"

Dumbstruck Harry and his friends just remained standing there, not understanding the sudden panic. A throaty snarl came from Harry's left accompanied by a twig snapping and the raven haired boy slowly turned his head to see what made the noise. A monster was there, half hunched over and bearing its teeth. Saliva dripped from his fangs and the grey fur of its back stood on end. It wore the tatters of a wizard's robe. If it weren't for Hermione's weak whisper, "Werewolf," Harry wouldn't have known what it was. Against him, Harry felt Cedric shiver and he realized the Hufflepuff wasn't going to be able to run like Sirius had told them to. He pulled Cedric tighter to him, even though their height difference made it difficult.

The werewolf lunged and Hermione's scream tore across the grounds. A great black dog intercepted the attack and the two canine beasts locked in a fierce battle of snapping jaws and sharp claws.

"Run!" shouted Harry while hoisting Cedric up to the best of his ability. They took off in the direction of the castle, Harry especially straining to half carry Cedric while keeping his wand pointed at Peter Pettigrew. The steps of Hogwart's drew closer and his lungs felts as if they were going to burst from exertion. Almost there. Almost there. Almost there.

They were stumbling up the steps when Peter Pettigrew was suddenly gone. His shackles hit the ground with a clang and Harry watched horrified as 'Scabbers' scuttled down the steps. The rodent disappeared into the grass below.

"NO!" Harry bellowed, releasing Cedric and tearing after the man. His wrist was snatched and Harry was yanked back into the chest of the tall Hufflepuff.

'Get. Inside. Now." Cedric hissed, as the werewolf could be seen racing towards them. Harry's heart ached. The proof of his godfather's innocence was gone. Cedric Diggory somehow managed to turn Harry around and yank him up the stairs. Then they were staggering into the Entrance Hall panting.

"Sirius," Harry croaked, staring back at the open Entrance Hall doors.

He could make out the form of the werewolf hurdling away into the forbidden forest. The danger was gone but—

"Where's Sirius?" Harry choked.

--


	20. Cedric's Confession

It took forever to update…I know. Sorry readers but with my full time job and then 4th of July vacation…well…time FLEW by. Also…I opened up an art shop on (_) and I had a crap ton of orders that I haven't even completed filling. Yay me O_o I shouldn't overload myself…

**Thank you** for all the support thus far and for reading up until this point. Your feedback is very appreciated! Your reviews and constructive criticism is helping me grow as an aspiring writer— Jack

* * *

Chapter 20: Cedric's Confession

Harry looked out onto the grounds from inside the Entrance Hall, his chest very tight. He couldn't see Sirius anywhere. Not only that, but Peter Pettigrew was gone. A curse slipped past his lips and Harry turned to face his friends. Cedric was to the side, clutching his thigh as if he could cut off the pain radiating from his ankle that way. Hermione and Ron were to Harry's right, pale and sweaty.

What were they going to do now?

"Hospital wing first…" said Harry gently, reaching out and pulling Cedric's arm over his shoulder. "Then we'll go to Dumbledore,"

Mutedly the others agreed and the foursome made their way to the infirmary. By some miracle, students weren't roaming the halls to cause them any problems. As Harry and Cedric shuffled along, the Hufflepuff cleared his throat lightly and glanced at Harry through the corner of his eye. Emerald eyes lifted to meet the hazel stare.

"I was with Dumbledore," huffed Cedric quietly as a single, crystal drop of sweat fell from his brow as they continued down the corridor. His face was tight with effort. "Before I came to get you, he called me to the office. The journals, their his."

Harry nodded. He knew that much. Inside, his stomach was churning. Cedric shouldn't be bringing up such a sensitive topic right now. The Gryffindor didn't have the state of mind to talk about it. To try and stress this fact nonverbally, Harry frowned heavily and lowered his gaze to the floor. Cedric didn't take the hint, or maybe Harry wasn't great with his body language.

"Harry…" whispered Cedric, trying to get the younger boys attention.

It took all of third year's willpower not to turn and answer that melodic voice. He clenched his jaw in determination and kept his gaze fixedly on the floor. Seeming to give up for the time being, silence fell over the group once Cedric stopped talking. They approached the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey's head popped out from the doorway.

"What happened?" she demanded, bustling forward. "Bring him in quickly and lie him down. He's going to faint soon,"

"What?" said Harry, but then the sudden pressure of Cedric's full weight came down on him. Indeed, Cedric had fallen unconscious. The raven haired boy grunted and his knees buckled. "Ron…a little help. Please,"

The taller boy was over in an instant, pulling Cedric's limp arm about his shoulders. Together, the Gryffindor boys drug Cedric into the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey was ushering them over to a familiar bed. It was the one Harry had been confined to after his near death experience during the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match. A sudden onslaught of memories rushed up about what exactly happened on that bed, bringing a heated coloring to Harry's cheeks. He looked away from the bed Cedric now laid on, hoping to drown out the memories by concentrating on Hogwart's most agitated nurse. She flicked her wand this way and that, ushering ointment onto Cedric's ankle. The swelling vanished after a few sharp spells under her breath. After her work was done, she turned to the three Gryffindors standing there.

"I ask again, what happened?" said Madam Pomfrey, her lips pursed in a way oddly reminiscent to Professor McGonagall.

All three Gryffindors began to stutter out excuses.

"He tripped."

"Oh, a Slytherin got to him. "

"He fell off his broom while practicing."

Angrily, Madam Pomfrey bit out that she was summoning the Headmaster right away. But then--

"No need Madam Pomfrey. I'm already here," a silken voice, heavy with age called out. Albus Dumbledore stood in the door, looking majestic in his robes of deep cerulean and his beard tied by silver thread. He strode toward them and it wasn't until he drew near could Harry sense a disturbance in his professor.

"Um…Professor Dumbledore…" Harry began.

"You must tell me everything Harry," Dumbledore cut in. A withered hand settled on Harry's shoulder and he was guided back out of the infirmary. Outside, Harry began to explain about sneaking out to see Hagrid, how Cedric appeared on the grounds, when the black dog (Sirius) attacked them, and the discovery of Peter Pettigrew. He mentioned Remus' transformation and the disappearance of both his godfather and Peter. Dumbledore nodded silently, his eyes flat with concentration. Then he glided over to the Hospital Wing door—and to Harry's confusion—called for Hermione with a soft,

"If you would please come here, Miss Granger…"

Bushy hair veiling a set of chocolaty eyes came out from the infirmary, gazing at their Headmaster apprehensively.

"Yes Professor?"

"It seems…as though things need a little changing. If only we had some more time," he whispered cryptically. Harry stood there nonplussed but Hermione made some odd squeak of acknowledgement in the back of her throat. "I think…three hours should be enough to save two lives, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded, her face an awful shade of white. She grabbed Harry's arm roughly, jerking him away from Dumbledore and into the shadows. As she reached into her robes for something, a croaky voice called Harry's name from behind them. Hermione froze absolutely rigid and removed her hand quicker than Harry could blink. Cedric hovered in the doorway to the Hospital Wing looking considerably better than he had a few minutes ago. He seemed torn as to whom he wanted to talk to first, Harry or the Headmaster. His blonde tussled head turned this way and way back as he made up his mind.

"Harry, are you alright?" he breathed, coming towards the third year.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry answered, giving Cedric a reassuring nod.

Surprisingly, Hermione was clearly fidgety during this entire exchange, tugging at the hems of her sleeves while darting her eyes in every direction. Perhaps taking notice of this, Dumbledore lifted his eyebrows and cleared his throat.

"Time is, indeed, of the essence now. Miss Granger…would you hand the Turner to Harry please,"

"But Professor!" Hermione shrilled, making Harry wince. "The Ministry—"

"—will not know," Dumbledore finished for her. "I will assume all responsibility should things go array but I have faith that they will not. Now, if you don't mind…the Turner,"

Hermione reached into her robes and pulled out a delicate necklace. Hanging from the fine gold chain was a tiny hourglass. She gave it to Harry, nodded to Dumbledore and disappeared into the Hospital Wing.

"Remember that you _must not be seen_. Not by anyone. There is no room for error Harry. Turn the hourglass back three times,"

With those brief instructions, Albus Dumbledore was gone in one sweep of his billowing robes. Harry gawked at the suddenly unoccupied space before looking over at Cedric, who's face was grim.

"It's a Time Turner…" he murmured, hazel eyes focused.

"A what?"

"I'll explain later,"

Cedric's hands enclosed over Harry's and he flipped the hourglass back three times. The world was in reverse and fast-forward at the same time; pressure was pushing both outwards and in. Harry wanted to scream but couldn't seem to open his mouth. And then it was over. Nauseated and confused, Harry wobbled and fell against the nearest stonewall. Before he could reassemble his senses, Cedric's arms were about him, lifting him up and guiding him swiftly away from the Hospital Wing. Their movements were jerky and unpredictable. At one point Harry was shoved behind a large suit of armor so abruptly that he saw stars.

They slipped out onto the grounds and flitted between shadows. Cedric was succeeding at keeping them hidden from wandering students. Harry was befuddled but Cedric was able to bring them into the safety of the trees in the Forbidden Forest. Both boys were out of breath and they took a moment to lean against the tree trunks for their breathing to calm.

"Ok. Time Turner. What is it?" Harry panted, feeling his back scrape against bark with every inhale. It somewhat stung.

"It induces time travel," began Cedric, pushing his sweaty bangs away from his face. "I honestly thought none existed anymore. They're so dangerous…how on Earth Hermione Granger got one…I don't know."

Harry nodded, trying to digest the idea that he had gone back in time.

"Does that mean…that our past selves are out there right now?"

"Yes….and it's imperative that they don't spot us. It could throw off the time continuum beyond repair," said Cedric darkly, glancing around.

The Hufflepuff's statement went right over Harry's head. He didn't entirely understand the consequences of what Dumbledore was allowing them to do, but he guessed by Cedric's tone that what they were doing was both dangerous and illegal….

……which was what seemingly what made up every year at Hogwarts for Harry thus far.

Cedric grabbed Harry's arm much in the same fashion Hermione did before she attempted to reveal the Time Turner. He was yanked swiftly back to where the trees were denser. The raven haired boy was beginning to feel like a ragdoll.

But in the secluded wood, Harry heard the voices. Cedric wrapped his arm around Harry's upper torso and pulled him back against his chest. For a paralyzing moment, the young Gryffindor was mentally sent back to the library night where he had been pulled against Cedric because the older boy's desperation to avoid girls. His body temperature rose dramatically as he felt Cedric's heartbeat against his shoulder blade.

The voices grew clearer and the two students remained still in the cover of the trees. There were four voices speaking at least. One had a surly, growling tone Harry couldn't identify. Another was higher pitched…almost whiney. The remaining two, however, Harry made out to be Hagrid and Lucius Malfoy. Harry stiffened in Cedric's grasp.

"Finally the day has come," drawled Mr. Malfoy's voice.

"Ah, yes. The Beast is indeed unsafe. Our Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures has seen to it that justice be done to this Hippogriff," added the higher, whiney one.

"Let's get to it already," growled the third voice.

The fourth was only muffled, blubbering sobs, undoubtedly Hagrid emotionally overwhelmed by the situation. The half-giant always wore his huge heart on his sleeve, tending to have a particularly soft spot for magical beasts. The voices grew quiet before finally vanishing entirely.

"Come on Harry. We need to save the Hippogriff,"

That's when Dumbledore's words clicked inside Harry's mind. Two lives…Buckbeak's…and Sirius'. A darkness passed over Harry. That meant somewhere….somehow….Sirius Black had died before they turned time. How Dumbledore knew that could wait. Finding and saving his godfather was his priority now. Harry had been given a second chance.

* * *

-

As they quietly weaved among the trees up towards Hagrid's cabin, Harry couldn't help but ask, "How did you know to come to the Forbidden Forest and wait to save Buckbeak, Cedric?"

The handsome face rotated to peek at Harry from over a broad, robed shoulder.

"I eavesdropped…" the Hufflepuff mumbled, frowning and flushing all at once. Harry could almost feel the shame radiating off of him.

"Oh," was all Harry could utter back in mild shock.

The cabin was in sight. There wasn't much time before the bodies that belonged to those earlier voices would return outside. The boys had to act quickly. Harry moved first and made careful eye contact with Buckbeak, bowing deep. The Hippogriff's wings ruffled almost irritably before settling and then Buckbeak returned the bow. Harry rushed forward to untie the well-knotted rope. Cedric, who was keeping lookout from the edge of the forest, was ushering him frantically to come back. Harry's fingers shook and sweat under the pressure, slipping over the rope as if it were coated with Mrs. Scower's Magical Unguent. Just when Harry didn't think the knot would come undone, the rope pulled free and he was desperately tugging the Hippogriff towards the forest. However, the animal refused to budge. The Gryffindor nearly screamed in frustration.

A brown sack caught Harry's eye and he recognized it as the one that contained the ferrets that were fed to Buckbeak. Snatching the bag up got Buckbeak's attention and obedience. Then the two of them were tearing off in the direction of Cedric and the Forbidden Forest. Harry even tripped over one of the pumpkins in Hagrid's patch in the rush for safety—and freedom. He didn't even pause to look behind him to see if anyone had noticed the escape from Hagrid's garden. Cedric also took off once Harry and Buckbeak reached the trees. As they sprinted deeper into the forest, an outcry of rage sounded out, followed by the thud of an axe. The three of them continued to run until the Hogwart's grounds had long dissolved into the oncoming darkness of the gloaming.

In a small cluster of trees the two students and the magical beast took refuge. Harry wound and tied Buckbeak's rope around a tree trunk before slumping down in fatigue. His eyes lifted wearily to gaze over at Cedric, who was equally drained and resting against an old tree across the miniature clearing. The Hippogriff they'd rescued rapped its talons against the brown soil, obviously aggravated about being bound up again. Harry half-heartedly threw the bag of ferrets over to him and tried to block out the horrid crunching sounds of the ferrets' spines being snapped as the Hippogriff devoured them happily.

A silence settled over the woods but despite the peace, Harry's nerves racked his system. He had over an hour to kill before everyone would be emerging from the Whomping Willow. And the longer Harry sat there, waiting for precious time to tick by, the reality of Cedric and him returned; the journals, the spells, the…lies.

Harry turned and stared blindly at Buckbeak, his eyes burned. The third year clenched his teeth to force back the frog in his throat. Now was not the time for this kind of drama. Him and Cedric…it was never meant to be in the first place…right? Why continue to care about something that never existed in the fist place?

After a bit, the silence seemed to get the Cedric and he spoke up.

"Hey…Harry. We need to talk,"

Oh, those dreaded words. The Gryffindor almost wanted to reply, 'About what?' but really...he knew inside him where Cedric was probably going with this; the bathroom confession a few days ago. Instead of fighting the approaching heartache, Harry just nodded, peering over at Buckbeak so he wouldn't have to look at the Hufflepuff.

"When I met you out on the grounds earlier…I had just come from Dumbledore's office," Cedric voiced softly over the area between them. "He called me there rather abruptly and when I arrived, he told me the journals were his. He had been to the Ministry and discovered that they'd all been removed. Upon inquiry, he learned that my father allowed us to use them for our Runes project, assuming that decades of failed Ministry attempts proved them unsolvable. In other words, my dad deemed them both impossible and harmless. Never thought he would've been so dumb."

Cedric's voice had adopted a surprisingly bitter tone. It made Harry's gut clench, hearing the anger laced in it. Was Cedric so spiteful of what had occurred between them? He bit his lip and persisted with his staring contest with Buckbeak's leg.

"Anyway, Professor Dumbledore explained that there were wards around his journals and should anyone meet the spells' requirements….well, there'd be a consequence. Turns out all of our excessiveness lately was thanks to his books. He seemed really troubled when he told me. But isn't it a relief Harry?" Cedric chuckled nervously. "That stuff you said and the things I did…they were just induced by magic…we don't have anything to worry about."

The Hufflepuff's expression was strained, somewhat odd, but Harry would never see it. He was too busy watching Buckbeak's feathers swim in and out of focus. Sure, it really smarted to hear Cedric say all that. Reject it, repent it, relinquish it…but no, Harry would _not_ cry in front of him. His heartache was his own and he would not share it. Damn it, he wouldn't.

"I mean, imagine it…if what you'd said was tru—"

"What Cedric? Imagine WHAT?" Harry snarled, whipping his head to glare furiously at the older boy. "What if I meant it? What would you do then? What if it wasn't because of his sick spells? What if what I said was real? That I feel it now even though the charms are broken! What would you do without any excuses or reasoning to block you out from the truth!"

.

"…the…truth…?" Cedric whispered hoarsely, his stunned hazel eyes large and shimmering.

"That I actually care for you. Love you even," Harry said, voice cracking with emotion. "Damn it…I can't believe this,"

The raven haired boy tucked his head between his knees and threaded his fingers through his hair. He wished he hadn't said anything at all. Or better yet, being invisible would feel wonderful right now.

.

But then Cedric Diggory cracked.

"I…didn't think…you felt that way. I thought it was just the spells…making you like me. I was really—I am really insecure about how you actually feel about me. I mean, this entire time was, well, crazy. And I really believed that we had something—but after Professor Dumbledore said we were under outside influences…to be honest, it really upset me—but he told me afterwards that the feelings had to be there in the first place in order for the spell to work. The properties of the charm were only designed to increase the emotions and desires that already existed. Sure, it was a manipulation of sorts but it only manipulated what was already there. In a way…I'm grateful, because I never would've had the courage to…….come onto you…….without the extra help. I was afraid. I mean, I never saw myself falling for a younger _bloke_. I never wanted to acknowledge this side of me but once we were spending time together…I was forced to. I guess that made me bitter."

There was a momentary silence while Harry soaked in the Hufflepuff's words. The reality of them. The truth in them. Finally he asked,

"Why did hanging out with me force you to confront your….sexuality?"

Cedric's face went beet red. He practically could have had steam come off of his features. Harry's mouth fell open at the sight of an undignified Cedric Diggory.

"I—I…couldn't help but stare. And you were nice, honest…funny," confessed Cedric quietly, avoiding Harry's shocked gaze. He continued, practically choking out, "And handsome. No matter what I tried there was just this pull between us. Call it chemistry. I had these constant urges to lean over and just…just…kiss you! It bothered me that you were making me feel these things and yet, at the same time, I just wanted to be closer to you. As close as I could possibly get. You know…one day I spied on you. I swear, I'm not a stalker or a creeper but…I really just wanted to watch you. It's like I can't get enough of you. I went to one of your Quidditch practices. You fly beautifully, Harry. I think I knew there was no going back at the point but I tried to anyway, to be straight. That's when you saw me with Trina, from Ravenclaw. That was the worst thing that's ever happened to me, you catching us. Maybe this sounds stupid but….I sincerely regret it."

He trailed off and shrugged helplessly, frowning. Even in the heavy shadows that were beginning to drape over the two boys, Harry could see that Cedric was afraid of what he'd just said. He'd finally let down his walls to let Harry see _him. _Entirely, for the first time.

"So all those times you rejected me…even when you said that stuff about being relieved--" started Harry.

"--were lies. I was in denial. And was being an ass about it. I'm sorry Harry. I'm really sorry. I know nothing I say can make up for all of it, but I _really am sorry_."

Cedric glanced towards the raven haired boy at this point, his eye contact deep and sincere. Harry's legs moved on their own accord, lifting and carrying him over to Cedric who offered out a shy hand that Harry accepted instantly. The two boys sat next to each other, hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder.

"So…what are you really trying to say, Cedric? Beyond apologizing, I mean." questioned Harry gently, resting his head back against the tree. He was trying to relax but his heart was racing.

"That I'm done being scared. I'm done being a coward. I know your feelings are real like mine now and...I really want to start over. No spells this time but just us. I'm hoping that you'll be…my boyfriend," Cedric replied, locking his hazel gaze with an emerald one. Harry was stunned for several long moments. And as if Cedric couldn't stand it any longer, he moved in front of Harry, cupped his face in both hands to pull him into a searing kiss. Harry's skin felt on fire. The tingling warmth of Cedric's lips branched out over his face and down his neck. It coated his chest and sank to his lap, spreading across his thighs and reached his toes. The Gryffindor's fingers found Cedric's silky locks and gripped them tight.

They remained like that until the need for oxygen became too strong. Lips parted reluctantly and heated breath passed between them.

"I can say it now…? It's ok?" Harry said lightly, eyes raking over Cedric's smooth features.

"Say what?"

"My feelings…"

"Yes Harry, you can say them," beamed Cedric. The black haired boy clamped his lips shut and flushed.

"Well now I'm too embarrassed to say anything," mumbled Harry, resting his hands on the front of Cedric's robes. They took to fiddling with a spare thread poking out from the hem.

"Couldn't take the sudden pressure?" Cedric joked, wrapping his arms about Harry's waist.

"Guess not," laughed the third year as Cedric pulled him into a hug.

"I think this is the first time I've ever held you," said Cedric wispily in Harry's ear. The younger boy smiled broadly into the Hufflepuff's neck.

For now, Harry felt as though all the problems and all the pain had never occurred at all. In this one precious moment the world was right, which was an utterly rare thing for The Boy Who Lived. So he hugged Cedric tightly back and savored the fact that he managed to keep someone dear to him, despite hardships they'd experienced.

While he held onto Cedric, Harry turned his eyes upward to search for the sky above between the leaves. He found a patch and took note of the stars beginning to come to life. Their icy light made him want to shiver. The moment was over. It was almost time.

He needed to save his godfather.


	21. The Souls, the Secret, and the Surprise

**To all the readers who have patiently stuck by me and this story, thank you-Jack**

**Chapter 21: The Souls, the Secret, and the Surprise**

As much as the dark was oppressive, Harry took comfort in the warmth he could feel to his immediate left. His ears could pick up on the subtle breaths issuing from Cedric's lips and the slight crunch of foliage as they shifted low in the brush. Both boys were squinting furiously out at Hogwarts Grounds, attempting to map out precisely where everything was. The clouds above graciously thinned and the land lit up slightly, if only to reveal lumpy, shadowy objects.

"Ok so those several large lumpies way over there, those are the greenhouses," said Cedric under his breath.  
"Yeah, and the smaller lump far to our right, that's Hagrid's place," added Harry, twisting on his spot. His ankles were hurting from squatting.  
"Then the only lumpy thing left is that medium sized one in the north west direction…which we can safely assume is the Whomping Willow," concluded Cedric and Harry could practically feel the playful smile that must have been on the Hufflepuff's face.

"You find this funny, don't you?" asked Harry, frowning a bit.  
"What's funny? The fact we are on the lookout for people we can't see…? Ok maybe I find it just a little amusing…in an ironic sort of way," he confessed with a chuckle before adding, "Besides, if you remember, the clouds break way causing the transformation. We'll see them eventually, so don't worry."  
"I can't help it! I keep thinking we're going to mess up and ruin this chance. I  
don't know what I'd do if—"

Harry was cut off as a large hand suddenly was pressing over one of his eyes (and glasses) as well as a part of his nose. He squawked in surprise.  
"Alright, I was aiming for your mouth but…oh well…now that I have your eye, shut up. I  
think I hear something," Cedric whispered, scooting a little closer to him.

Harry strained his ears to pick up on what Cedric heard and after several long moments, he could hear it. Several pairs of feet were shuffling their way along the grounds towards the castle. How on earth had Cedric heard that? Silently, Cedric's hands ran down Harry's arms, gripping them at the elbow and hauling him up. Harry's joints screamed at the change in posture and his legs wobbled against his will. Cedric was more than happy to oblige in holding him up, strong arms wrapping around his torso to pull him close. The Griffindor's breath hitched in his throat.  
"Stay focused Harry," he mumbled to himself, swallowing hard.  
"What'd you say?" asked Cedric.  
"Nothing, c'mon let's go."

They eased their way through the trees, inching forward towards the open grounds. It wasn't an easy process since their robes kept getting snagged on branches and large roots made them stumble more often than not. They had just breached the perimeter of the forest when the sky above cracked open and silver light exploded  
forth in a flood. The grounds were suddenly bright and gave them clear sight of a figure stumbling away from the group in their direction. It was Lupin.

The man was hunched far over, as a long, shrieking wail ripped from his throat and he clutched himself in apparent  
agony. His form began to mutate, growing and bubbling, shredding the already ragged clothes he wore. Fur began to pierce through his skin, his nails elongated, and there was a distinct, disturbing sound of each of his vertebras  
popping as his spine extended. Harry's throat went dry.  
"Ced—"  
The older boy clamped his hand over Harry's mouth (it was quickly becoming a habit of his, it seemed), cutting off  
his own name slipping out. He pulled them both low to the ground and shushed,  
"Be still!"

A few hundred feet away the group had scattered and there was some frantic shouting. For a moment, Harry's will  
wavered, as he thought about the fact Peter Pettigrew was making his escape right now. He wanted that man jailed and punished; Sirius would be a free then. is eyes shifted over to group, searching for the rat's escape path. A low  
growl crawled across the grass and met Harry's ear. His skin prickled and Cedric made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Slowly, Harry turned his head back to face the source of the noise. Yellow eyes glowed ominously in the dark and the fur on the back of the werewolf's neck bristled at the sight of the two boys. Another growl slipped past two rows of sharp teeth, displayed in the moonlight by black lips curled back, saliva moistening them enough to give them an eerie shine in the moonlight. Harry's blood went cold.

Something suddenly rammed into his right side and he jumped in shock, hand automatically flying down. In a split second the Gryffindor flung whatever had touched him as far away from their bodies as possible. It was only after an awkward squeak met his ears that Harry realized he had flung Scabbers—Pettigrew—like a baseball, _away_ from him. Before he could say or do anything about the matter, rapid footfall could be heard and a  
mass of fur struck the werewolf in the side, drawing Harry's attention immediately to the scene in front of him. A scuffle started up; whines and snaps filled the air along side of the sound of grass being torn up by claws; it was a symphony of madness. In the bedlam, the dark haired dog was tossed to the side and after he had clambered up again, he took off into the forest. The werewolf gave chase after a long, curdling howl.  
"Sihhhmmiiuhh!" Harry screamed from behind Cedric's hand.  
"Quiet Harry!" hissed Cedric sharply. "Don't call for him. We must be careful when we follow them. We're  
done for if that werewolf turns his attention to us."  
Harry ripped Cedric's hand away.  
"Right now his attention is on Sirius! We need to save him! He's going to get killed!"  
Harry pulled out from Cedric's hold and took off full speed after where the canines had disappeared.  
"Shit," spat Cedric, tearing after Harry.

Branches were more like fingers that dug their nails into Harry's skin as he ran. However, the majority of branches  
had already been cleared away and broken down by the large beast plowing some ways ahead of him. He was half-blind in the dark and fell several times while in pursuit. Luckily though, the creature's path seemed to be along the forest's edge, so he wasn't lost—yet. How his glasses managed to stay on his nose was beyond him. Perhaps Hermione had placed a sticking jinx on them at some point. She was a clever witch who possessed that sense of foresight and like the good friend she was, always seemed to be looking out for Harry.

A crash of brush and breaking wood startled Harry and he glanced to his side to see Cedric cutting into the forest  
from the grounds. Brilliant, thought Harry bitterly. It would have been so much easier to trace the path like Cedric had. And less painful, for that matter.  
"Wa…Was…'fraid…I'd…lost you," panted the Hufflepuff, jogging along side him.  
"Did I trip so much…that you actually caught up…to me?" heaved Harry in a rush, while managing to avoid a  
particularly large root.  
"Must have," replied Cedric shortly, making a graceful leap over a patch of slithering Ivy. The plant reminded Harry  
creepily of the Devil's Snare he encountered first year. Good thing Cedric had long legs.  
"Harry…up ahead!" said Cedric, grabbing the back of the boy's robes to slow him down.  
Just in front of them the forest edge ended and turned south. They were coming up on the opposing side of the  
lake. The werewolf was gone, but Sirius remained. His body lay there in human form, still and unmoving. Harry couldn't stop the shrill whimper that rose up out of him.

They were too late.

He ran forward and dropped down next to his godfather. He didn't understand. They had chased him immediately.  
When did he fight the werewolf? Where was the blood such a battle would have created?

"Harry…" Cedric croaked.  
Green eyes couldn't tear themselves away from Sirius' face.

They were too late…

"H-Harry…" Cedric spoke, but it sounded more like an odd sob.

Lifting his eyes to look at Cedric, Harry absorbed the expression of terror on the older boy's face. He in turn wasn't  
looking at Harry at all, but over him, out towards the edges of the forest and lake. A part of third year boy told him not to look, as a terribly familiar ice was crawling up his skin. Despite this, he cranked his head about. Dementors were sweeping in from the forest, dropping down from the sky, coming up through the lake water, and skirting  
in from the shoreline. They swirled about the three humans, rotten cloaks billowing, twisting into a demented gray cloud—and Harry, Cedric, and Sirius were in the eye of the storm. A heavy thump forced Harry to whip around and he saw his boyfriend unconscious on the ground, very pale. He himself could feel his consciousness slipping; that certain fuzziness that Dementors seem to inflict on the edges of one's brain. He blinked hard and quickly, forcing the feeling back. Now the air was chilled and he could see his panicked pants forming in front of his face. The creatures moved abruptly, making antsy darts a few feet forward before retreating back, like they were testing the  
situation. Harry feebly held his wand at the ready, and the despair he already felt consumed by, simply increased seeing the tip of it shake so unsteadily. He tried clenching his fist to stop the shivering—from fear, from cold—but the muscle stubbornly refused to respond.

"I'm scared," he thought, his wand lowering slightly.

The cold was burning him and then began to stab him like knives. He could hardly remain sitting up. The world turned to doubles in front of his eyes and started to spin. "Don't faint!" he thought desperately.

A Dementor swooped forward and dipped down towards him and Sirius.  
"E-Expecto Patronum!" he said, conjuring a small, misty cloud of white. It only hovered there for a few moments but it gave Harry a chance to get to Cedric. With all his might, Harry tugged the other boy closer and turned back to the Dementors in time to cast another pathetic Patronus. A few gave shrieks and pulled away. Harry felt his willpower fading fast and he peered down at Cedric first, his gaze unfocused and dim, taking in his handsome face. Then he turned them to look at his godfather. That's when he saw the minute little puffs of condensation forming past Sirius' lips. Breath…

Breath!

Harry shouted another Patronus that was successfully able to repel several more Dementors that were approaching.  
The brightness of it inspired Harry. He couldn't give up. That wasn't him. He had so much to fight for! He had a whole new life in the magical world since his 11th birthday: his friends, Hedwig, Hogwarts, and Quidditch. Now  
his godfather and Cedric Diggory too. And he knew there was more to be had. He came here to save Sirius. And that was just what he was going to do.

Just then, a hoard Dementors swept forward and charged, shattering his Patronus cloud that had been shimmering  
between them. One fell upon Cedric immediately, it's crusty fingers pulling the robe around its face back a bit. It leaned far over him and a deep, echoing rattle sounded as air was being sucked by a gaping hole of a mouth. Harry  
couldn't help it, he screamed. Anyone would have, seeing that thing exposing itself and bending down close to their loved one's mouth. The hollow, scraping noise of gulping air increased and Harry saw a small area of Cedric's throat beginning to emit a glow. The light traveled slowly up his throat. Harry realized it was Cedric's….soul….

His…_soul_...

A flurry of cloth brushed past Harry and the young teen twisted to see the same process being done to Sirius.  
This wasn't going to happen. There were going to be more happy times. Harry swayed and fell, only  
managing to catch himself on his elbows barely. His eyes were now level with Cedric's face, specifically his lips. A beautiful, tiny delicate orb lifted out of them, mere inches from Harry, giving off the most sweet, soft white light.  
Something inside Harry snapped at the sight. Those foul wraiths were about to rob Cedric and give him a fate worse than death.  
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he shouted, jabbing his wand right into the chest of the ghoul, visions of his laughter and good memories of him and Cedric together cascading through his mind.

The Dementor was forced back as a burst of white light exploded from Harry's wand, sending it reeling into the  
trees. There was a chorus of screeches as many Dementors took flight, trying to escape the light that charged at them. The Patronus made a U-turn and hurdled back towards Harry, galloping only a foot above his head and driving the Dementor on Sirius away. The Gryffindor watched in awe as the twinkling light sunk back down into Cedric's mouth and disappeared into his throat. He peeked over his shoulder and saw the same happening with his godfather. With the Dementors gone, the cold dissipated and warmth flooded Harry's body once again. He sagged in relief. Next to him, Sirius gave an almost inaudible wheeze. His face was lit up by the light of Harry's Patronus and the boy could see his godfather's eyes just barely open. A thick tear slipped out of the corner of  
one of Sirius' dark eyes and his hoarse voice whispered, "James", before he lost consciousness once more. Harry wondered if Sirius had mistaken him for his fatherwhile he idly watched his Patronus kneel low, its nose almost touching Sirius'cheek.

While his Patronus was still present, Harry pointed his wand at Cedric's chest and uttered the spell to  
revive him. He had learned it reading the encyclopedia section on Dementors months earlier, which stated that the common revival charm 'Enervate' would typically awake those who faint under the Dementor's influence. The book proved right as Cedric groaned and his eyes fluttered open. The Patronus still shone behind Harry, giving him a 'touched by an angel' look. He must have looked surreal to Cedric, because the Hufflepuff mumbled,  
"Dead huh? Least I got to Heaven." Harry frowned and opened his mouth to protest. He wanted let Cedric know that they were very much alive but got cut off. "So long as we're dead Harry…gotta get something off my chest……a secret I kept…" he began, his glassy eyes gazing up at the night sky. "I lied to you about something. I never slept with any girls. Actually the farthest I ever have gone was with you. Phew…glad that's over with."

The fifth year sat up shakily as the glowing stag dissolved away, and Cedric squinted, eyes trying to readjust  
to the darkness. "What happened to the light?"  
"Cedric, we aren't dead," said Harry, bemused. He wasn't sure if he should be worried about his boyfriend's  
loopiness, pissed about the lie, happy about the truth, or amused by the entire situation. Yes, his nerves were most definitely fried.  
"We aren't dead?"  
"No we aren't."  
"…oh…"  
"We're running out of time. We only have 12 minutes to get back to the spot in front of the Hospital Wing," Harry  
said methodically, glancing down at his watch under the light of a Lumos he'd cast. "Get up Cedric. Help me levitate Sirius. We're going to have to run."

He carefully got to his feet. Unfortunately, he was still shaking from the earlier attacks. Cedric gave him a look that would have been more appropriate on Ronald Weasely's face. His whole expression openly showed his 'have you lost your mind?' opinion of Harry at the moment.

"Run? After all that? And while levitating the body of a full grown man?" Cedric asked, voice cracking. "That's  
impossible Harry."  
"We have to try!" Harry shouted. "I'm not about to give up now!"  
"Don't get hysterical. I'll think of something…" Cedric soothed, unsteadily standing up. His hand came to rest on Harry's shoulder for balance.

There was a crunch behind them and the two Hogwart's students whirled with their wands out. Harry's Lumos fell upon Buckbeak who strutted out from the forest, a collar of shredded rope around his neck. He clicked sharply, rearing up and flapping his wings at the aggressive stances of both boys. Hastily, the Gryffindor extinguished his light and bowed respectively to Buckbeak who eyed him uneasily, talons strumming the dirt in an irritable fashion. When Harry was feeling nervous and about to give up, the beast returned the bow, allowing Harry to come forward. Hands grabbed at the frayed remains of rope and tugged the Hippogriff over towards Cedric.  
"Why'd you follow us all the way out here?" wondered Harry out loud, running a grimy hand down the feathers of Buckbeak's chest. He got his answer when the bird creature began pecking at his robe, tearing a large section from it.  
"Hey!"  
"Harry, I think there's blood on the cloth he's eating. Probably ferret's blood that leaked out of the bag  
when we stole him."  
The Gryffindor's lip curled in disgust as Buckbeak ate his bloody piece of robe. Yeah, that made enough sense.

"Get on Cedric, I'll pass Sirius along to you," ordered Harry gently, patting Buckbeak's back.

"Ride a Hippogriff? You're mad," was the Hufflepuff's reply.

Harry glared briefly over at Cedric who cautiously approached the bird-beast his boyfriend was stroking. Buckbeak reared and squawked angrily, his powerful wing flinging Harry over into a nearby bush.

"Bow Cedric! You must bow first!" Harry exclaimed, scrambling out from the brush. Leaves and small twigs were entangled in his black hair.

It took a few moments before Buckbeak accepted Cedric and Harry helped hoist him onto the beast's back. The Hippogriff shifted back and forth anxiously, obviously ready for the flight to come. Leaning low, Harry enervated Sirius, who then peered blearily up at him.

"No time to explain. Just get up in front of Cedric and when I climb on after, hold onto me as tightly as possible," said Harry quickly, yanking his godfather to his feet. He pushed Sirius unceremoniously into a bow which Buckbeak returned after a stiff, regarding pause. Then Harry helped him mount in front of Cedric before finally swinging up himself.

"Hold on tight!" he reminded everyone, and then Buckbeak was off.

* * *

They were hyperventilating together in the shadowy hallway outside of the Hospital Wing. Tears burned in Harry's eyes from the strain for air, but mostly for the fact he had let his only family member go. Watching Buckbeak fly away with Sirius, heading for some unknown location, was difficult for Harry. Sirius was innocent. He wanted to offer up his home to Harry and had wanted to give him a family again. The Gryffindor's chest ached strongly but if he closed his eyes, he could still felt the press of Sirius' lips on his forehead and hear the course, "I'll be in touch", goodbye.  
"You did exceptionally well," a voice greeted, making both boys move their gazes towards the Hospital Wing entrance. Dumbledore stood there just as he had when they'd left him a few hours before. "Two lives saved, hm?" he smiled, that mysterious twinkle blossoming in his azure eyes.

Harry conjured up a weak smile and nod.

A sudden, ear-piercing scream ripped through the walls of Hogwarts, forcing a jump out of Harry's already exhausted body. It sounded distinctly familiar….almost like…

"Hermione!" he gasped.

The three of them ran down the corridors, Dumbledore keeping pace with them, surprisingly agile for his age. They found Hermione at the Entrance to the Great Hall, clutching her white face in shaking, pale hands. They looked for the cause of her anguish and found Crookshanks sitting smugly several feet from her. His fluffy mouth was stained red. From it hung the limp corpse of a rat. He dropped the rodent dully on the floor, hopped over it, and made his way over to his trembling master, purring and twining himself about her legs lovingly. There was no mistaking the pattern of fur but any doubts they may have possessed were erased as the rat transfigured into a human body.

Peter Pettigrew's neck was unmistakably broken, though only tiny prick marks were visible on either side of his neck, Crookshanks had killed him.

Despite the disturbing sight of a dead, disfigured bloody body unmoving on the floor in front of him, Harry felt this creeping joy coming into his system. They had the evidence now. Pettigrew was caught. Sirius would be free. He turned to Cedric to see if he had come to this conclusion as well, but all the Hufflepuff could offer was a tight smile. He looked a little ill.

"The three of you students should clean up and get to bed. Leave the rest of this business to me. Get plenty of sleep for we'll have a lot to talk about in the very near future," Dumbledore spoke softly, his eyes resting on Harry on his last statement.

Sleep, yes that did sound quite nice.

Harry looked to Cedric who nodded. Hermione seemed to have calmed down partially and was picking up Crookshanks at arms length, tears running down her cheeks. She obviously wasn't sure how to feel about the situation but she pulled out her wand, cleaned Crookshanks up, and made her way over to the boys. The three of them were silent as the drifted towards the main staircase. No one was around so the castle was probably under lockdown because of Sirius Black and the werewolf.

At the landing where they had to part ways, Harry and Cedric made eye contact. Hazel eyes briefly shifted over to Hermione, their gaze hesitant, before returning to the raven haired boy. Then firm lips caught Harry's own in sweet kiss.

"G'nite Harry. Night Granger," Cedric said lightly, turning in the direction of the Hufflepuff dormitory.

Even after the days events, Harry's nerves still managed to be shocked by the gesture. His grubby fingers reached up and touched his lips in disbelief.

"Quit ogling his backside and let's get back to Gryffindor Tower," said Hermione crisply. Harry was sure she meant it as a joke but the night had taken a toll on her as well. All the same, Harry smiled.

"I wasn't looking at his backside 'Mione," he grinned. "But that does sound like a nice idea."

Hermione weakly but playfully bumped into him as they climbed the next staircase, managing to smile back at him. For Harry, the future held a bright picture for him. Tomorrow was just one more step in that direction. A fresh start for him and Cedric, and a life with Sirius. What could possibly be better?

* * *

Yes this is ridiculously overdue but I did promise to finish the story. Life likes to get in the way, you know? And NO it's not over. From this point on Decoding You will focus almost solely on the development of Cedric and Harry's relationship, continuing on into the summer and the start of Harry's life with Sirius. For all you patient readers that have stuck with me, you have all my thanks and gratitude. I'm excited to start writing about their steamy activities again, as well as their budding romance. See you again,

-Jack


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